


Beam Us Down, Tortall

by SanoSSagara



Category: Star Trek: The Original Series, Tortall - Tamora Pierce
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fusion, Multi, Transporter Malfunction, everyone fucks everyone eventually, ion storms
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-11-14
Updated: 2013-11-14
Packaged: 2018-01-01 11:19:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 21,552
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1044216
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SanoSSagara/pseuds/SanoSSagara
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Enterprise Crew tries to transport during an Ion storm and ends up in the Tortall universe of Tamora Pierce. Rated for highjinks, sex, and terrible puns as I am wont to do. Look for lots of characters, and lots of pairings. main will be kirk/spock/bones, uhura/scotty, pavel/sulu, and all canon pairings in Tortall people as well as lots of swinging.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Ion Accidents

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not even going to try and claim this is my own idea. I read the amazing story Transported: The Healer by cable69 (who is an amazing author and everything they've written is gold), which is about McCoy ending up in the Squire universe of Tamora Pierce, and was inspired to try my hand at a similar idea. SO, here we are, with my own drabbling story. If anyone notices a distinctive similarity between the two, know it is unintentional and should be treated as homage.
> 
> True to my own nature, however, there will most likely be rampant omnisexuality and linguistic ramblings. 
> 
> Now, a note about the POV. This will be done with an over encompassing third person narration, but it will change with each chapter which character is the 'main' mind talking. This is to deal with the discrepancy of terms used; such as magic versus force-field, for example. This first chapter is centred on Kirk and the Enterprise Crew. 
> 
> I forget not everyone is a linguistics student like I am. I spend all day decoding IPA inscribed conversations, so it isn't hard for me to write spoken language phonetically, but for my lovely readers (it's been pointed out to me) rather than an idle curiosity it is actually quite the pain to filter through Scotty and Chekov's lines. I apologize, it wasn't my intention to annoy y'all, merely a reflex to write how I normally do. I've fixed it now.

Kirk stared uneasily at the readout Spock proffered. There was an unusually high, 'Hell, unusual for other ships, but not us,' amount of radiation activity in the quadrant. Ion storms were cropping up with an almost frightening regularity. He sighed and ran a hand through already messy hair.

"Captain, there is a logical need for caution. Perhaps we should postpone the excursion to the surface of Ancash XII. There is a 49.83 percent chance of transporter malfunction due to Ion activity, and our shuttles are still currently 'out of commission' so to speak due to last weeks diplomatic meeting," a sharp eyebrow lifted when Kirk began to grin in remembrance, "Captain, I fail to see the humor in this, or the former situation,"

"Never mind that Commander Spock. You say there is an almost 50 percent chance we're going to end up with transporter side effects?"

"Forty nine point-"

"Yes, yes, yes, Mr. Spock," Kirk cut him off, flapping the PADD impatiently.

"Captain, Ion storms, similar to the one that landed yourself, Doctor McCoy, Mr. Scott, and Lieutenant Uhura on the alternate reality Enterprise, are no small matter. Both in safety and unpredictability, I must again insist we scrap this mission,"

Kirk simply thrust the PADD back into Spock's hands and commed Engineering.

"Scotty, how do you feel about the stability of the transporter under the current circumstances?"

"Keptin, th' high level of activity probably willnae have much of a reaction wi' the transporter, now that I've done these modifications,"

Kirk nodded, "That's good enough for me. Remember, as the most senior member of Engineering, you will also be expected to attend this conference. So, if you feel there is a danger, speak up, because you're on the line too,"

"Och aye Keptin. an' again, I say it's gonnae be perfectly safe,"

The comm clicked as the connection was terminated, "Well Mr. Spock, does that satisfy you?"

"…No, but I imagine nothing I can say will deter you at this point, Captain,"

"You're learning Spock," McCoy remarked as he strode onto the bridge, unhappily tugging at his dress uniform, "Jim, I feel like a darn monkey in this suit. Why do I have to go down? I'm a Doctor, damn it, not a diplomat!"

Uhura swiveled in her chair, "Leonard, we all have to go down. The High Council of Ancash demands the entire commanding team of the "Illustrious and famous Star Ship Enterprise" must beam down to "ensure that the validity and earnest nature of StarFleet and the Federation is apparent"," she concluded with a pained look.

"Yeah Captain, why do you have to be so good? If we were just another ship, only you and the Commander would have to go down," Sulu looked very dashing in his tightly cut dress uniform. He was busy shining his boots, sitting next to a green looking Chekov.

"You have no-one to blame but yourselves!" Kirk groused good naturedly. He turned his gaze to the obviously nervous Ensign,

"Chekov, do you actually have cold feet? Aren't you looking forward to all the lovely ladies down there?"

"Keptin, you awre not nervwous at all?" Pavel accepted a handkerchief from Sulu with a shaky smile of gratitude, "Dis is not a normal mission! Dey awre an entirely new type ov live form,"

"And that's why we're the ones doing the meeting. Our ship, while it may have a hair-raising track record, we also have the greatest number of successful encounters of any Ship in the Fleet," Kirk smiled brightly.

"Captain, I fail to see how our record would have any correlation to the Human fear reaction of follicle-," Spock was cut off by a sharp elbow to his side by McCoy accompanied by a pained glare.

"Not everything is literal, yeh Green Blooded-,"

"Hobgoblin, yes, Doctor, I realize this," Spock finished dryly, sharing a rare almost-smile with the grumpy CMO.

The comm crackled sharply to life,

"Keptin, aren't you all comin'? Or am I goin' down all alone?" Montgomery Scott's amusement was clear.

"You heard the man, let's get this show on the road, Folks," Uhura quickly exited the Bridge, handing her station over to her replacement.

"So help me Spock, if you say a word about there being no roads on Ancash, I'll find something nasty that Vulcan's need to be inoculated against on that planet," McCoy grumbled and walked after the Communications officer.

Spock merely raised an eyebrow as Kirk, Sulu, and Chekov guffawed and followed his Captain to the turbo lift,

"Fascinating,"

The Bridge Crew, plus one Chief Engineer who had what looked suspiciously like engine grease on his dress reds, and one irritable and sullen faced CMO, gathered at the transporter pad.

"This better be damn safe, don't think I didn't see the report," Bones groused as Kirk maneuvered him onto a pad between himself and Spock.

"A'course its safe Doctor McCoy. I did th' modifications tae 'er myself,"

"That's what worries me!" Chorused Uhura and McCoy at the same time, sharing a smile as the woman settled herself onto the pad.

Kirk made sure Chekov and Sulu both gave him a nod before turning to the Ensign manning the transporter consol,

"Energize,"

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Kirk was the first to come to. He was pinned beneath Chekov, or so it felt by the slight and wiry muscled body. He assumed it was just a bit of interference, it wouldn't have been the first time they'd had to suffer an inglorious landing. But when the sound of birds singing reached his ringing ears, he realized they were worse off than making a fool of themselves upon arrival.

"Scotty…." Kirk let his face fall back into the sweet smelling grass.

"Aye Sir, it looks like we're nae where we're supposed tae be," Montgomery Scott stood and dusted himself off as the rest of the landing party staggered to their feet.

"This just –oof—, justifies everything, augh, I've ever said about god damned transporters!" McCoy's irate voice rang out like a gunshot through the trees.

"We're alife, arnae we?" demanded the Scotsman.

"More importantly, Gentlemen, where are we?" Spock calmly interceded between the two.

"Ancash XII is supposed to be highly populated, hardly any vegetation that isn't in strictly regulated agricultural areas," Kirk looked around them with a pained grimace as Chekov finally peeled himself off his back.

"Right, and this definitely looks like a natural, old growth forest," Murmured Sulu.

"Where ever we are, this is gorgeous," whispered Uhura, plucking a clover blossom from the ground, "Look, these are normal, Terran plants! Look, apple trees, well, tree, the rest of these look like-,"

"Cedars!" Hikaru jumped past her to feel the gnarled trunk of the nearest tree, "These have been extinct since the late 2100s!"

Spock raised an eyebrow, looking around,

"Captain, we appear to be in some sort of semi-coniferous forest. Tricorder readings indicate an atmosphere nearly identical to that of the Earth. This appears to be an almost pristine forest, though made of largely new growth trees. There is evidence of great trauma to the land in at least the last decade,"

"Spock, tell us something we can't see with our own eyes," Kirk said lightly.

Chekov staggered a few feet on his still wobbly legs to lean against a tall cedar.

"Vell, vat do ve do from here?" he asked, glancing around them as he patted his pockets, assuring himself that his phaser, a last-minute addition for the entire away team upon the head Security officers' insistence, and his communicator were still there.

Uhura was currently trying to hail the Enterprise, but from her scowl, he could only assume there were no results.

"Well, Mr. Chekov, it seems we can do little but wait for the Enterprise to find us, and beam us back. We would do well to avoid discovery, since we don't know who inhabits this planet, or even if they're part of the Federation," Kirk glared down at a smudge of dirt on his gleaming gold shirt.  
"That does seem smart, Captain," Sulu was busy taking samples from a number of the trees. As he approached the lone apple tree, a sudden shout and flood of black fire erupted from the trees to their left.

"Get away from there! Who are you?" The fire, some sort of portable shielding device Kirk assumed, swirled about them to form a solid dome of sparking black. Sulu was thrust backwards into the group by the shield. Instantly they all drew their phasers, training them on the spot the shout had come from.

"Stand down! I am Captain James Tiberius Kirk of the Federation Starship Enterprise. Lower the shield, we mean no harm, we come in peace!"

McCoy managed to have a smart comment about that even as he stooped to keep from brushing against the force field, "Phasers set to stun, Jim,"

Kirk nodded as he watched a two humanoid figures emerge from the woods. A tall man with masses of coal-black hair had his hand outstretched, fingers sparking with the same black fire of the shield.

'He must have the control device,' Kirk mused. The other man, much shorter and wearing peculiar golden mail, had fiery copper hair cropped close around a strong face. Flashing purple eyes were wide and wary as he steadied a leather gloved hand on his sword. Most unnerving though, were the wolves ranging in the trees and around the two men. One with smoky brown curling fur minced close to the tall dark man's legs, hackles raised and growling.

"Who are you?" the tall man asked again as the redhead fiddled with a glowing stone at his throat, "Why are you here?"

"If you would lower the shield, I will happily make introductions," Kirk raised his hands placatingly after clipping his phaser back to his belt, "See? No weapons," the rest of the Crew followed suit and lowered their phasers, Chekov and Sulu the slowest to de-arm.

The pair merely regarded him with suspicion.

"I'll give you one more chance, tell me who you are, and why you're here," the dark menace was clear enough that Kirk nodded in acquiescence.

"As I said, I'm James Tiberius Kirk, Captain of the Starship Enterprise; this is my First Officer, Commander Spock, Chief Medical Officer Dr. Leonard McCoy, Head Engineer Mr. Montgomery Scott, Head Communications Officer Nyota Uhura, Navigator Ensign Pavel Chekov, and Helmsman Hikaru Sulu. Again, we mean no trouble,"

"Where are you from?" demanded the dark haired man.

"We're the Bridge Crew of the Enterprise, but other than Mr. Spock here, who is Vulcan, we're all Earthlings," Kirk could see this meant nothing to either man, which was disturbing to say the least.

The two men frowned at each other, "Who's orders are you following, coming here? Are you Tortallians? Scanrans?" The man wiggled his fingers and the shield closed in around them. The dark light filled with flashing white fire made Kirk's hair stand on end as he brushed his arm against it tentatively. It didn't do more than deliver a mild shock, but he doubted their phasers could disrupt the energy field if he couldn't even see the device controlling it.

"Again, we are the Crew of the Enterprise, Call Number NCC 1701. We are under Federation direction to establish contact with the High Council of Ancash XII, a newly Space Emergent planet. Obviously, we are not where we intended to be. If you could just step back for a minute, we will be on our way as soon as we get into contact with our ship," Kirk held his communicator up, speaking slowly and clearly, searching the men's faces for any sign of recollection.

"Well?" The man cocked his head toward the smaller one, masses of crinkled coal black hair bouncing, eyes never leaving the captive group.

The redhead let the glowing bauble at his neck fall and looked at the tall one,

"Well, Numair," Kirk's blue eyes snapped to amethyst ones, it was a woman wearing that bright armor and sword, "They're telling the truth… at least a truth they believe,"

"You're saying they're crazy?" The one controlling the force field, Numair, asked seeming exasperated.

"I don't think… so…," she shook her head. Sulu and Chekov exchanged glances with Dr. McCoy.

"Achem," Kirk cleared his throat, bringing the attention back to himself, "I believe I made satisfactory introductions. Who are you two? Do you know where Ancash XII is? Are we in the correct quadrant? Or are we just in a restricted area? I assure you, we meant no foul. Our transporter seemed to have malfunctioned," He added with a heated glare toward Scotty.

Uhura, looking at her universal translator, noted with cool interest that the device wasn't being activated. She studied the man and woman, noting the antiquated clothing style, the shining mail worn by the woman. If the translator wasn't activated, it meant they were speaking Terran Standard. An older dialect to be sure, but she couldn't help thinking this was not a normal transporter accident. Of all the solar systems and planets that utilized Terran Standard due to the Federation, to find individuals who resorted to the language automatically, especially when they showed no recognition of their Star Fleet uniforms, was incredibly chancy.

"I am Numair Salmalin," the man's eyes widened slightly when there was no sign of recognition, "And this is Sir Alanna of Pirate's Swoop and Olau, the Lioness and King's Champion,"

Other than blinking at the odd, and long, title, none of the Crew showed any recognition to either person, which confused Numair and especially Alanna who knew her name was by now well known even in the Copper Iles and beyond.

"And this," Numair motioned toward the foremost wolf, "Is Daine Sarrasri, the WildMage," Even the wolf managed to look shocked at the lack of reaction, if that was possible.

"Tha's a wuvly pet, Mister Salmalin," Chekov remarked. The wolf's hackles rose and it stepped forward menacingly.

"You all, really don't know who we are?" Alanna spoke slowly as she too stepped closer, her eyes sparking even brighter if possible.

"Your names are not in the memory banks of my computer, I am sorry," Spock nodded, "Although if this planet is not known to the Federation, that is not a large surprise,"

The wolves behind the group growled at Spock's voice, hair rising along their spines. Kirk and Bones moved in front of Spock, uneasy of the bared white fangs and menacing snarls. Uhura swallowed uneasily, backing closer to Scotty when the smoky brown colored wolf walked right up to the edge of the shield. It's eyes held a frighteningly human intelligence, and she wasn't entirely sure if the shield would keep it out as well as it kept them in.

Suddenly its muzzle twisted, eyes still locked on the Vulcan. The flesh rippled and hair receded. Grey skin became pink, and teeth flattened into molars rather than fangs. Soon, a human mouth sprouted from the face of the wolf.

"Numair! This one isn't Mortal, nor is it an Immortal. I don't think it's a God either," it spoke with the soft voice of a young girl.

Chekov fainted into Uhura's arms as Spock simply lifted an eyebrow and remarked calmly,

"Fascinating,"


	2. Speculation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Two! Worked on this, and quite a bit more while I was up in Canada this weekend for the Kingston FunFly, which everyone should attend as it is happiness wrapped in beer, airplanes, and well behaved dogs, sprinkled with attractive men. To summarize (the story, not the hot drunk Canadian pilots); Kirk, Spock, McCoy, Uhura, Chekov, Sulu, and Scotty have landed in the Tortall Universe due to a transporter accident. They have been apprehended by Numair, Daine, Alanna, and the Long River Wolf Pack.

Numair looked from the seven captives to his Lover, then to Alanna. In this day and age, seven years after the end of the Scanran war, not many people didn't know their names. Even more troubling was Daine's proclamation that the tall, slightly green looking man in blue was neither Immortal, Mortal, nor Devine. Even to his gift, the newcomer read oddly, as though he were looking at him through a spell. The others looked normal to him, and they carried what looked like small spelled charms. He didn't see the gift in any of them, but he could see Alanna fiddle with her emberstone and frown, looking between the odd tall one, a man in gold who could be Scanran with his blond hair and piercing blue eyes, and one who glowered back with an equally cross frown. Behind them was a lovely woman who looked like a Bazhir or Carthaki with her sculpted facial features, a young looking Yamani man in gold and a baby faced boy with the fine features of a Gallan youth. A seventh man, dressed in grime covered red watched him just as intently as Numair watched them, though he had a genial, good natured smile gracing his attractive face.

His lips quirked in a suppressed smile as he watched the woman, Nyota something, supported the fainted youth. The man introduced as McCoy pulled a silvery tube from his bag and jabbed it against the boy's neck. A quick hiss issued from the device and the boy, Pavel Numair remembered, gasped, lurching in the woman's arms and opened his dazed eyes.

"Was that wakeflower?" Alanna asked curiously as she watched the Yamani man flutter about the child. She suppressed a knowing smile and turned her attention to the almost growling man who glared back at her.

"Is it what? It's a hypospray to wake Chekov up," He glared at the Tortallans and muttered darkly under his breath. Alanna chuckled to recognize her own characteristic scowl on the man's face.

"Doktor, I am thinking you enjoy your job too…" the boy trailed off when he looked beyond the faces peering down at him in concern, "Yo mayo… vwe are not in Sickbay…"

He struggled to his feet, Numair noticed he leaned heavily on the man introduced as Hikaru, and kept his gaze dutifully away from the wolves.

"And here I vas hopingk in vas all a dream,"

"Sorry laddie, thes isnae a dream", the jovial man bounced on his feet, nodding his head toward the wolves, but his eyes not leaving Numair and Alanna, "It looks like we 'ave gotten ourselves intae a right spot o' trouble,"

"Trouble we wouldn't be in, Scotty, if that damned transporter worked right!" hollered McCoy.

Numair mused to himself, thinking for all the child had fainted, the rest of the intruders were holding together quite well upon seeing Daine's partial transformation. Wherever they were from, they were obviously familiar with either shapeshifters, or a similarly high powered spell. Since they'd shown no recognition of wild magic, he doubted they suspected it in his currently furry bride. If they turned out to be hostile he assumed Daine and the animals would be an unpleasant surprise.

Scotty, Numair couldn't recognize the man's thick accent, was cut off in his hot tempered response by the beautiful dark woman.

"Lady Uhura, was it?" Alanna fingered her emberstone idly. When the proclaimed communication officer, whatever that was, nodded, the Lioness continued, "What is your tribe?"

Looking confused when Nyota spluttered in indignation, she asked again, "Do you know of the Bloody Hawk? I'm the Woman Who Rides Like a Man. Where are your lands, have you conferred with The Voice?"

"What are you talking about?" Nyota asked in exasperation.

"Alanna, maybe she is Carthaki," Numair murmured to his friend.

Bright eyebrows drawn tight over amethyst eyes Alanna studied the woman, "Are you Carthaki? You know, we do not persecute Bazhir here, our King IS The Voice,"

Nyota's mouth worked a few moments silently as she exchanged an almost panicked look with the tall greenish man.

Numair raised a large hand, "Wait, I think it is painfully obvious that you are not what we thought. Let me release you and we will get this all sorted out at Fief Dunlath. This is not the place to interrogate you, nor does it appear you have done anything wrong,"

Kirk, the Scanran looking man, smiled brightly and thanked him.

"Yes, I assure you, we mean no harm. We are just lost,"

"Apparently very lost," the Yamani muttered as Numair cautiously recalled his gift. The tightly packed group breathed a sigh of relief but didn't move far from each other. Kirk still stood cautiously in front, hand hovering over an odd device in his belt.

Alanna noticed as well, "If you would though, hand over your weapons? You understand, you are in a very sensitive area and we have no idea how you got here,"

Spock nodded, "That is logical, Ma'am, though I assure you there is a very simple explanation for our being here,"

"We look forward to hearing it," Numair gathered the devices dropped on the ground with his magic, noticing how the newcomers looked awed as the lighted black fire drew them toward him, "Daine, are you coming back with us or continuing to visit?"

Daine shook her head and picked her pack of clothes from the ground. Trotting lightly she went behind a large trunk to change back. She stepped back a moment later, adjusting breeches and shirt with fingers still sporting heavy black claws for nails and large, furry ears perched on either side of her curly head.

The people stared in a mixture of fascination and fearful disbelief as she finished transforming and strode back to them.

"You, but wha… how," Chekov was pale and looked ready to faint again, "What?" he squeaked.

"I have Wild Magic," Daine spoke softly, smiling warmly at the youth. Numair was amused to see the blush creep up Pavel's face and the vaguely jealous look cross the Yamani's.

"Illogical, there is no su-," Spock began but was silenced by an elbow to the ribs by both Kirk and McCoy; he simply raised an eyebrow but remained silent.

Numair chuckled, "No need to worry, I know not many people believe in Wild Magic nowadays. But I can see it with my Gift, I assure you, Our Wild Mage here has it,"

"Your gift?" the one called Sulu asked lightly, still looking queasy at the transformation.

"Surely you know the Gift," exclaimed Alanna, "Magic?"

"As I said, magic is an illogical assumption to make despite the situation," Spock continued despite the wild shushing of his friends.

"What are you talking about?" It was Daine's turn to gape, flabbergasted at the strange interlopers in their world.

"Scanran, you are the leader?" Kirk looked puzzled, but nodded at Numair.

"Spock, shut UP you green blooded hobgoblin," McCoy turned to the tall man and glared, pushing his shoulder, whispering urgently as Numair relayed their names to a large wolf with a noble plumed tail held jauntily in the air.

"Brokefang, make sure that Maura is expecting our… odd company," the wolf wuffed softly at Numair and turned to nuzzle Daine. One by one the wolves licked the girl and rubbed against Numair and Alanna then melted into the forest like shadows.

"Numair, they might be escaped from the Mithran temple of mind Healers," Alanna said slowly, "They're not lying, or bluffing. The genuinely don't know anything, which just leaves insanity,"

"We arenae insane!" exclaimed Scotty, and at the uncontained chuckle from Uhura smiled sheepishly, "At least nae in th' way you're thinking of,"

Numair and Alanna shared the people's smiles as one might humor small children.

"What do you mean by it is illogical to assume magic in this situation," Numair asked Spock.

"Technology of sufficient advancement is indistinguishable from magic. It is obvious to me that your culture has been visited before by post warp peoples and has been given advanced devices but not the knowledge to use them,"

Numair frowned and McCoy covered his eyes with a hand as the Vulcan talked.

Alanna stepped forward, "Are you escapees from Ganiel's temple? Were you prisoners somewhere?" her violet eyes were soft and concerned.

"Please, Ma'am, we're the Bridge Crew of the USS Enterprise. Call number NCC-1171. We were supposed to beam down to a diplomatic meeting on a planet called Ancash XII," Kirk explained, "Please, just tell us where we are,"

Now the three Tortallans looked utterly flabbergasted, "You're in the forest of Fief Dunlath. In the Kingdom of Tortall,"

Chekov shook his head, "I hawv nevwer heard of a plenet called 'Tortall' Keptin,"

Whatever this situation was, Numair knew he'd never encountered something even remotely similar to it before. And he had a feeling he would be praying every night to any God that would listen that he never would again. Straightening and looking at his lover, he sighed.

"Whatever is going on here, I'm sure we'll sort it out as soon as we get back to the Fief," turning slightly, he motioned to the crew, "After you all. You'll forgive us if we don't quite want to let down our guard just yet,"

Kirk smiled graciously and moved forward, cautious as he passed between them, "Not at all, Mr. Numair. I understand. Which direction are we travelling?"

Pointing, Numair began to follow the oddly dressed group, thinking hard and fast. It was obvious the visitors were odd, confused, and not necessarily a threat to Tortall. He didn't think any of their enemies would send so varied a group of spies, nor had the Whisper Man even hinted there would be any trouble in the coming weeks. Was it possible these really were interstellar travelers? He tried to think if he'd ever heard the Badger or Daine's parents talk about human life on other planets. And Alanna had not hinted the Goddess had ever told her it was possible. Maybe these people were out of the God's power. Maybe they were just crazy. As they walked toward Dunlath, he realized this was likely the last sane moment he would experience for weeks.


	3. Urgency Takes Wing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Three. POV Nyota. 
> 
> Hiiii everyone. In case you missed my redo on the previous chapters, I just wanted to let y'all know that I acquiesced and stopped with the accents. :{P silly non-linguistics student people. 
> 
> A bit about this chapter; it is rather short and lacks a bit of action, but I hope it fleshes out the base relationships that I want to utilize. Now, it's not that I don't like Uhura. Not at all, I actually adore her in TOS. Less so with the 2009 movie, but still—Go Nyota. It's just that in my opinion she's more likely to puzzle out this situation in the manner I want to write. And I want to save Spock's POV for another idea. 
> 
> Summer is almost over and I can't wait to go back to Uni. But that also means that my already tenuous grasp of 'schedule' is going to fray even more. Sorry to those that still wait on me to write, and sorry to those that stumbled upon me expecting regularity. 
> 
> Dive Twisted. 
> 
> ~Sano.

The Journey to Fief Dunlath was a long, awkwardly silent one. All for Chekov and the lovely shape-shifting girl called Daine. Nyota watched with wary amusement as the boy overcame his initial fright and vied for the shapeshifter's attention against the random woodland creatures that literally poured out from the forest. Daine seemed to pause over each and every rabbit, squirrel, and hawk that dropped from the trees. Deer followed their small caravan even after a russet colored wolf rejoined them.

Daine ruffled its ears and then giggled, claiming another wolf called 'Broken Fangs' had sent this one back for being insufferable. The redheaded woman chuckled and elbowed the man, asking where the wolf had learned such a word.

It struck Uhura how at ease the three strangers acted considering just hours before they'd been holding her and the crew at…. Magic point, were one to believe them. The tall man, Numair, she knew he had somehow controlled the black force field that had enveloped the landing party, but none of her instruments had picked up on any type of known energy signal. Even more disconcerting was the fact that their universal translators weren't being activated. Millions of worlds in the Universe, millions of languages, yet here were people who obviously spoke Terran Standard as a primary language. Yes, there was a universal quality to intelligent life that gifted it language and as such all languages had a seed of that 'sameness' that linked them together, but this was something else. That link was tenuous at best, and to this day Linguists like her squinted and frowned and drank until they could puzzle that hair fine and continually splintering quality into something they could point to and say, 'yes, this is it…maybe, possibly,'. These people could have, theoretically, developed the same language as Earth, but it was so incredibly unlikely she could laugh. Tribes on Earth in the Twenty Century had been discovered, having formed nearly atop one another but speaking languages so different that they could have been on different planets. But this… this was identical. Sure, she heard different syntax, a more formal delivery, and occasional phrases sounded odd to her, but this was a near identical dialect of Terran Standard.

She looked at Spock, suppressing a smile as he tripped ungainly over an exposed root, and tapped her computer when his eyes met hers. He nodded, and she knew he was thinking about the language similarities as well. Did this mean they had been sent back in time again? If that were true, she thought while chewing her lip in worry, wouldn't the country's name have come up in their data banks? And this so-called magic was frankly terrifying. If another post-warp culture had dropped weapons and technology onto this planet and simply disappeared it was possible they were in big trouble.

What other possibility could there be? Magic simply didn't exist. Not in the fairy tale sense at least. Spock was right, sufficiently advanced technology really was indistinguishable from magic to those that weren't familiar with it. But why wouldn't these people, Alanna, Numair, and Daine, share real cause of the force field when it became clear that the Crew was also in possession of technology of a similar nature.

"Miss Daine, awre you not worried of being bitten?" Chekov leaned in close as he peered at the plump red squirrel in her hands. The party had been paused for a quite a while now as she nodded and smiled, clearly sharing something as the red fellow chattered excitedly and pressed his nose to hers. It turned and send a scathing reply toward Chekov, who pulled back with a tremble in his bravos nature.

Daine however laughed at him, "Odds Bobs no! The last time I was bitten badly was by Keladry's griffin. And he was just a baby—no manners at all. None of the People would bite me,"

Alanna cut her off, "Unless Cloud thinks you deserve it,"

Daine scowled at the redhead as Alanna and Numair guffawed. The Enterprise Crew traded unsure glances and chuckled weakly.

"People?" Chekov ran a gentle finger down Flick's back and grinned as he scampered away up the nearest oak.

Daine looked slyly at Numair, "He says Sweetmunch still wishes she'd bit you," To Chekov she nodded, "People. Animals that aren't human, immortal, or divine. They call themselves the People,"

"How can you talk to dese animals? They hawv no idea of the world like you and I do," Chekov asked. Uhura could almost hear Kirk and Sulu flinch at the steely look that came over Daine's eyes.

'Foolish Russian,' Uhura thought to herself with a sigh. It wasn't enough they had to watch Spock and his blunt words, it would seem Chekov was just as bad.

"They may not think about taxes and waging war and whether to wear pink silk to dinner or blue, but I assure you, the People have a better idea of the world than most two-leggers. My Wild Magic allows me to talk with them directly, but if more two-leggers would take the time, they could even talk to them,"

"Not to mention that prolonged contact with our little Magelette effects a permanent change in the animals' cognitive processes. They do become, in fact, more human like in their thoughts," Numair began to tick off on his fingers, "They start to exhibit an accelerated ability to learn to adapt to human interaction; like learning signals and routines without extensive training. They also acquire a much more concrete knowledge of the passing of time and begin to recognize dates and significant events,"

This time Daine and Alanna both  
shushed the dark-haired man.

"Numair, quit lecturing,"

Spock lifted and eyebrow, "I think this is obviously a type of telepathic link. Similar to the links among the fauna of Vulcan,"

"Nonsense," Chekov announced, "Telepathwy vas inwented in Russia,"

"Where is Russia?" Chorused Daine, Numair, and Alanna.

Uhura gasped with mirth at the crushed and horrified look on Chekov's face.

Spock's budding geography lesson was cut off by a tremendous crashing coming from ahead of them. The Enterprise crew scrambled together as their captors warily took more guarded stances until Daine smiled,

"Iakoju! We're over here!" She waved and Uhura felt herself begin to relax.

That is until a gigantic aqua skinned ogre came crashing through the thicket, her thunderous footfalls drowning out Numair's musings that one Lady Maura was concerned.

"Phasers!" cried Kirk, leaping infront of his crew valiantly, even as his face bleached white in fear, "Get behind us! We can protect you!"

Numair turned quickly, flinging a hand wrapped in silvery black fire out at them, yanking the phasers from Uhura's and the rest of the crew's grip. The devices clattered to the ground at Numair's feet. Sulu, undeterred, grabbed up a brand from the forest floor and brandished it with a quaking flourish,

"Captain, Everyone, run!"

Iakoju looked at them, tiny ears swivling in confusion,

"What… are they wearing?" she asked.

"Och! It can talk!" Scotty rubbed his eyes.

Iakoju frowned and turned to Numair, "What they mean? Of course Iakoju can talk. Are strange humans stupid?"

Alanna reached up to pat the Ogre's lower arm and laughed, "We don't know yet. Iakoju, is everything alright?"

Iakoju pulled a roll of parchment from her pouch and handed it to the red-headed Lady Knight, "Lady Maura say the Mages have scryed trouble at Port Legann. Carthaki raiders. Emperor Kaddar says they are dis-senters,"

Uhura noticed the immediate change in the group. Daine's face blanched, Numair and Alanna traded dark looks. The Ogre apologized then motioned behind herself, toward the barest hint of a road. More a jumbled dirt track large enough for perhaps a hand drawn wagon.

"Lady Maura send more horses, and have your things readied. She say Kitten already leave with Tkaa from Capital. She say you all best go straight to King Johnathan, not to Dunlath. She say she understand visit cut short, next time longer,"

In a flurry of activity the crew found themselves forced to the side. Numair opened his palm flat in front of his face, and frowned as black sparks fizzled. Uhura watched as Alanna did the same, purple fire like her eyes blooming and withering.

"What are you doing?" She asked.

"Trying to reach Johnathan," muttered Alanna.

"It looks like there's still too much distance to open a speech spell," Numair turned to Daine, "Love, I hate to ask you, but do you think you could go ahead? I know you'd rather be with Kitten as well. And we'd just slow you down with this group," he motioned to Uhura and the crew.

Daine nodded and shook out her shoulders. Suddenly feathers sprouted from her skin and her eyes moved closer together over her rapidly elongating beakish looking nose. Soon a goshawk struggled free of the girl's homespuns and leaped into the air. Wings clawing for height, the bird was gone before Uhura really realized what she was seeing. Next to her, Bones turned to Spock and whistled.

"Got a logical explanation for that, Hobgoblin?"

Spock merely ran a slightly shaking hand over his chin and closed his eyes. Uhura knew how he felt. It was shaping up to be one of the stories that makes Captain Kirk's ship the most famous, infamous, respected, pitied, feared, and loved of the fleet. And she wasn't sure she wanted the honor of being here anymore. After a slightly deeper breath than was quite Vulcanly, Uhura suspected he was picking up bad habits from Kirk and Bones, Spock turned to the Lady Knight and Mage,

"Where are we going?"

Even the Ogre smiled at his strained voice.

"Corus. The capital city of Tortall,"

The horses Iakoju brought them stood calmly within a ring of wolves. A pack donkey named Bother whickered unhappily with a cross looking grey pony introduced as Cloud. After their gracious captors bid goodbye to the wolves and the ogre, Uhura tried to mount her horse. It took a try or two, but oddly the creature seemed to sigh and used it's head to push her rump up into it's saddle. She squeaked and watched unnerved as the other horses helped similarly the rest of the crew. Of the entire landing party, only Leonard and Scotty were familiar with horses in the least bit. Spock particularly had a difficult time seating himself. He flinched each time his bare fingers brushed the animal, and she could tell by the worried looks he received from Jim and Bones that his mental shields were oddly reinforced.

As they set out, Numair turned in his saddle to smile at Spock, "You really have no idea how gratifying it is to find someone with a worse seat on a horse than myself,"

Everyone's laughter mixed with the steady clop of hooves on the dirt and Uhura let herself believe that maybe, just once, this wouldn't end with red shirts in the mud soaked with blood. Her dress uniform was a lovely shade of crimson, and she would hate to get it dirty.


	4. Enter: Corus

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Four. 
> 
> Hello my lovely readers. I am here again with another chapter! And so soon! The world must be ending O_O. Actually, it's not, but that won't stop me from teasing silly Europeans and Americans about them misunderstanding Mayan calendars. Silly non-Belizeans. (Fine, and non-Guatemalans too). 
> 
> The group has finally reached Corus in this chapter. 
> 
> POV leans toward: Mr. Chekov, the adorable mop-headed kid he is.

When the group reached Corus, Chekov was speechless. They heard and smelled the outskirts of the city long before they actually saw anyone, but even that didn't want the EnterpriseCrew enough to prepare them for a gods-honest City. Pavel supposed he'd been expecting some slab stone buildings and a 'castle' hewn from the cliff and thatched roofs. Neat stone cottages and wooden inns and shops lined the well worn dirt road.

People waved and bowed to Numair and Alanna, he noted. It seemed these people had not been lying when they acted so surprised the Crew hadn't recognized them. They stopped at an eating house doing a brisk business and Alanna purchased for them all a large platter of dumplings to eat. Chekov decided not to mention that his mother made much better pierogis.

He leaned against Hikaru, taking a bit of comfort from the older officer as they watched Numair call up the black fire in his palm again. He watched as Spock twiddled the dials on his tricorder rather roughly. Even a frown graced the Vulcan's normally serene face. He guessed the Commander wasn't getting any readings, or rather, any readings that made sense.

"Hikaru?" he whispered.

"Pavel?" Sulu rubbed his knee reassuringly.

"Vhat vill happen vhen we get to zis Castle and King. I vas hoping that there would be only a little village, something we could hope to steal avay from in the middle of night. But zis, zis is a real City. I am sure with a real King as vell. And…" He trailed off.

"And?" Prompted Sulu with a concerned glance toward the rest of the Crew. Pavel noticed they were all staring at him. Numair and the lady Alanna were speaking into the glowing fire in Numair's hand. None of the patrons of the eating house were paying them any mind either. Once again he thought about how oddly accepting these people were.

"And ve are… vell, ve are Keptain Kirk's Crew," He finished with an apologetic shrug aimed at his Captain.

Kirk just made a face and coughed, "Come now Chekov, not every first encounter I've been in charge of has gone terribly awry!"

Spock leveled the Captain with a gloating look, "Captain, I could tell you the exact number, but doing as such would do little to ease Ensign Chekov's fears. So for the time being, you may pad your pride with this less than accurate implication,"

Chekov looked at Spock with horror while Bones and Kirk scolded the Science Officer. Sulu, Uhura and Scotty assured him that it was the Vulcan's attempt at humor. But it did little to make him feel better.

"Did we miss the joke?" Alanna came over and sat down with them, her sword clanking against the bench before she re-adjusted it. Numair scowled at nothing in particular before sighing heavily.

"No Miss Alanna. Spock here was just torturing Ensign Chekov. A very UN-Vulcan like pass-time," Kirk grinned brightly and spread his hands wide in an open gesture.

"My Captain would recall that I am actually half Vulcan and half Human," Spock nodded to Bones as the good doctor laughed.

"He's got you there Jim!"

"Anyway, Miss Alanna, what are we doing from here?" Kirk pointedly ignored his First Officer and CMO in favor of leaning closer to the short red-headed woman. Out of her golden armor and mail, Alanna was indeed a lovely creature. Her fire-kissed hair looked impossibly soft to Chekov, and he marveled at her vivid purple eyes. He didn't blame his Captain for flirting with her. He just didn't know how Kirk could be so calm, lean so close, and smile so disarmingly at one of the people keeping them captive.

"We've just spoken to the King, and it seems we have some time before we'll be able to deal with the seven of you. Port Legann was attacked by a mixture of rouge Carthaki raiders and Immortals. Kitten was sent down earlier today with Tkaa to help keep the wyvrns at bay, but Daine is almost there to help as well. The King doesn't know if he will have to dispatch some of the Own, the Riders, or even Numair and myself. So until then, we're under orders to stick close to the Palace and keep you lot out of trouble."

"I promise my lady, we will as quiet as church mice," Kirk bowed his head.

"I do hope you'll be some bit quieter than mice," Numair's smile was strained, but his words had no malice, "Daine has complained many times about not being able to hide from the talkative mice that live in the Palace. They never shut up I am told, nor can you keep them out easily,"

Kirk traded wide eyed glances with Bones and turned back, "It is a common expression where we come from meaning we'll be very quiet. I was not aware mice were prone to chattering,"

"There is much you're not aware of it seems. Come on now, we still have a bit of a ride to get to the Castle." Numair rose, unfolding his long, lanky body slowly, as if he were weary and carrying a heavy pack.

"Is Mr. Numair well? His mood seems ta be deteriorating from this morning," Scotty asked Alanna.

"He's just worried about Daine. If she gets injured, he really doesn't want to explain to her parents and friends how he allowed it to happen," she chuckled in a knowing way but didn't elaborate despite the curious looks she received.

"I should be there with her! What if the raiders have the Mages that went missing from the University? There's no one at Legann that can combat them—,"

"Other than the hundred mages Jonathan has stationed there," Alanna finished for him as she gave Uhura a hand to her feet.

Numair scowled at her and strode out the door to fetch their mounts from the stable.

"Is it necessary to ride to the Palace?" Spock asked lightly.

"It is, if we walk there's a good chance you'll be pick-pocketed," Alanna laughed, "Though I doubt they'd find anything of use to them in your pockets at this point,"

Chekov agreed. Numair had their phasers laced up tight in a pouch on his horse. Though he had little doubt Scotty could make their tricorders into something useful to fight with, no person here would be able to turn the devices on, let alone know how to work them. It was obvious this world had no electricity. There was no evidence of engines, nor much machinery other than hand tools. The only thing that confused him was the apparent use of electrical lights in the doorways of more expensive looking homes and inns. Globes of some type of crystal light entryways with an unwavering light.

Scotty noticed it as well, but before he could articulate the question, Numair returned and it was then time to go.

The ride to the Palace was a short one, but Chekov could feel the dread mounting with each mile they drew closer to that gigantic gleaming stronghold atop the hill. They passed a river flowing calmly and he considered flinging himself into it preëmptively. Travelling over the fine white cobblestones, Chekov watched his companions. Sulu rode with a calm, contemplative look on his face. Uhura and Scotty both looked around them with undisguised curiosity. Spock, Jim, and Leonard moved their heads and shifted in a way that he knew meant they were conversing within their mental links.

Across the drawbridge and they were truly in captivity. It was clear with a look at the uniformed guards milling about that escape would be almost impossible. A pack of dogs roamed the courtyard where they entered. Lead by a jaunty white bull terrier with half an ear and a broken tail. Over its head a flock of Sparrows flitted and dive bombed the canines. Alanna whistled sharply and the white dog looked up. Speeding towards them, it barked hysterically until it noticed the EnterpriseCrew. It's hackled immediately went up and a low, terrifying growl rumbled out of its muscular chest.

"Relax Jump, they're fr… well, they're not enemies," Alanna looked around them, "Do you mean Keladry's here?"

The dog actually nodded, "The dog ACTUALLY nodded!" Chekov shrieked.

Startled, everyone around them stopped to look.

"Of course he nodded," A tall girl with dreamer's eyes and wavy brown hair crossed the yard in long, sure strides.

"Lady Knight Kelady! It's so good to see you, I'd worried you were going to stay up there in the woods for the rest of your Knighthood," Alanna hugged the girl and Numair shook her hand.

"New Hope has officially been decommissioned. All of my refuges either came here to Corus with me, or were settled into their own homes in new town and villages. I was hoping I might be of some use along the coast against these raiders,"

The girl turned to them and Chekov felt his heart might burst. She was beautiful. Not like Nyota with her sculpted cheek bones nor with the fire Alanna had. It was a calm, collected beauty that reminded him strongly of Sulu and Spock when they meditated.

She walked right past him to bow to Sulu.

"Are you the new delegates from Yamani?"

Sulu stammered and backed into Leonard when she looked back up at him.

"I'll explain, Kel," Alanna drew the girl to the side and began a quick report of the morning's adventure.

After a moment the girl turned back and sheepishly rand a hand through her hair.

"I'm sorry, I didn't realize you all were… special guests of another nature,"

"We're no crazy, Lassie, if'n that's what yer implying," Scotty groused.

"Either way, we need to keep these folks under lock and key until the King is ready to see about them. Do you have any ideas Kel?" Numair asked when he turned back from his conversation with a thickly built hostler leading a string of shaggy ponies across the yard.

"Well, I was on my way to the practice courts to meet up with Neal and Sir Raoul, Master Numair, you, Lady Alanna and these people are welcome to join me if you want," Kel tugged a forelock and looked the group over.

"That sounds like a grand idea actually," Alanna grinned, "Were you planning on letting Peachblossom bully Sir Meathead?"

"Of course," came the lilting response. Chekov decided he would give anything to see the girl smile like that again.

"I vould wery much love to see these practice courts!" He pushed forward and extended his hand to shake Keladry's, "I am Ensign Pavel Chekov of the USS Enterprise,"

Keladry blinked at him, "Lady Knight Keladry of Mindelan, Knight of the Realm,"

Kirk looked across to Spock, "I thought Knighthood was just for men?"

"It would appear else wise here, Captain,"

Numair heard them murmuring to one another, "Our Lady Knights Alanna and Keladry are the first female Knights in over a hundred years. And we're quite lucky to have them on OUR side,"

"Are you in a war?" Bones asked gruffly.

"We are just cleaning up after a few years of it. We're busy taking care of raiding parties and cleaning out the last of King Maggot's playthings. But more worrisome than that is the task of learning the migratory patterns of the Immortals. It turns out that the Killer Unicorns are highly mobile in the late summer in search of breeding grounds," Numair grinned, "My Magelette is indispensible in negotiating land usuage in the kingdom,"

"King Maggot, immortals, magelette? Mister Numair, you've lost us," Kirk scratched his head, "It's not often I understand so little of what someone other than Spock tells me,"

"The more you people talk, the more I'm beginning to think your insane story is true. Not even crazy people could have lived without knowing about the Immortals, or the war with Scanra," Alanna frowned at them, "Well, either way, come with us. It won't be too long till we get to parade you in front of the King. Let's hope he's in a good mood for listening!" She remarked wickedly.

Chekov felt his blood rush from his face and a flush of fear grip him. He didn't want to be paraded in front of a laundry maid, much less a King.

They followed Alanna, Keladry, and Numair through the Palace grounds until they reached a large corral. Shaggy Ponies milled about and whickered softly. Farther down two Knights in plate were jousting at each other, their horses thundering down the well packed path on either side of a whitewashed fence.

Leaning against a fence was a man with the greenest eyes Chekov had ever seen. He was talking loftily about some philosopher to a bored looking mountain of a man. When the two spotted their group, a desperately happy look bloomed over the giant's face and the younger man groaned.

"And here I thought we might have a truly intellectual conversation, but no, you've arrived to thrash our poor tired bodies Keladry of Mindelan," The green-eyed man drawled as pushed off from the fence. He and Kel embraced before he bowed low to Alanna,

"My Lady Knight, I trust you've not replaced me as your whipping boy? I would be so heart broken if you'd given your tongue lashing to another,"

Alanna ruffled his hair and told him that no-one would be able to vex her as he had.

"Except maybe Jonathan," The big man said to no body in particular.

"Raoul, just because we're page-hood friends doesn't mean I won't sharpen my steel on you," the short red-head shot back, hand resting lightly on the pommel of her sword.

Introductions were made, and the Crew was given a thorough tour of the training yards. They saw some pages and squires training, as well as a few more errant Knights milling about jousting, tilting, and practicing their skills at swordsmanship. A group of women in colorful tight fitted dresses were at the far end of a field shooting amazingly tall striped bows at targets almost out of sight. Chekov thought they looked a little like the women in kimonos Sulu had shown him pictures of.

Just as they were picking out padded armor from a storeroom for Neal and Keladry a sparrow rocketed into their group to land on Keladry's shoulder. It chirped and chattered, hopping excitedly until she stroked its head with a finger. The bird then flew to cling to Alanna's hair.

"It seems the King wants us NOW, Numair. Keladry, Sir Meathead, Raoul, would you mind terribly keeping these… guests occupied? If they need anything, please provide but don't let them stray too far. You know how easy it is to get lost in the Palace,"

Raoul nodded and Alanna and Numair bid the group a brief farewell then hurried up a hill toward the high curtain walls. Chekov watched them go with a sinking feeling in his stomach. As kind as the request had sounded, he was more than aware the woman had given her friends orders to make sure they got into nowhere they were not intended to see, nor were they allowed to leave. So much for an escape, he thought.

"Do any of you want to spar?" Keladry was asking when his attention returned to his surroundings.

"I know my way around a fencing sword," ventured Hikaru and Pavel felt a rush of pride.

"That's wonderful. Here, let's find you a sword and some padding. I've not fenced for practice in forever, I'm sure I'm rusty," Kelady led Sulu into the armor shed and helped him choose properly fitting armor.

He noticed Raoul's and Nealan's amused looks to each other and asked why they were smiling so.

"Kel's never been rusty a day in her life, I'd wager," Sir Raoul boomed out.

"In fact, I DO wager. Five Crowns that she beats him in less than ten moves," Neal reached into his pocket and jangled what sounded like metal coins.

"Is your Sulu really a good hand with a sword?" Raoul looked at Kirk, who glanced at the rest of them quickly before saying that no-one on the entire ship could beat the Japanese man at fencing.

"Hmm… I think I might give him the benefit of the doubt. Six moves, though, not many people last ten against Kelady," He placed five large golden coins on the fence's topmost rail between him and Neal as Kel led Sulu into the fencing court.

Chekov's confidence in Hikaru faded when he saw the man's panic stricken face. Then he saw that it was not a foil the Navigator held, but an honest to goodness sword. Perhaps thinner than the one Sir Raoul wore at his belt, but certainly much heavier, thicker, and longer than Chekov would have expected.

'Not only are they going to kill us or worse later, this girl is going to humiliate Hikaru first,'

Chekov sighed and ran a hand through his hair. He was right to be frightened.

Looking back to where the Captain stood, he saw that Jim was laughing with Neal about something already.

'Why aren't they more worried?!'

Something Bones had told him once came to mind,

"Never rush toward a hopeless situation Kid, on this ship, it'll find you first,"

Maybe he shouldn't worry then. Chekov tried to relax a bit as he watched Sulu and the girl bow to each other. Maybe it would be alright.

The girl lunged forward to take the first cut and Sulu leaped backwards, nearly tripping over his feet in his haste to avoid the dulled edge of her practice sword.

"Or maybe not…" He whispered into the wind.


	5. Audience with a King

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Well my lovelies, University has started up again, and I am swamped with languages, homework, and occasionally friends with alcohol. So I apologize for the severe alterations made to my updating schedule. You'll notice I pump out oneshots and drabbles fairly quickly, but it seems that I just can't be satisfied with the chapters I've written for this story. It is rapidly becoming my favorite story, even not compared to the early stories I have that make me ashamed to put my name on them. Haha, but I suppose everyone has those stories in their queue. 
> 
> POV: Mr. Sulu. The sexy, sexy beast he is (Takei or the new one ;3 )
> 
> Chapter Five: Audience with the King.

Sulu was panicking. He struggled to keep his feet underneath him, he'd lost his calm, even breath, and the sweat was stinging his eyes along with the dirt and blood. The girl Keladry just came at him, all steel and calm hazel eyes. Her blade was a molten flash of silver that never stilled long enough for him to get a bead on her movements, and the solemn stillness to her attack was unnerving to his very core.

Tripping backwards Sulu flailed with his sword. It was so much heavier than any fencing blade had a right to be and that weight dragged him off-balance. Even so he didn't think he would have faired even marginally better with a proper foil. He couldn't even spare a glance toward the fence to see what his Crew thought of him scrambling away from Keladry like a frightened tribble.

With a grand flourish the girl snatched his sword away and sent the dull practice steel spinning into the air and halfway across the training area. His breath left him in a hard whoosh as he landed solidly on his backside in the dust, staring dully at the slightly pointed tip of the blade resting squarely on the bridge of his nose. He wheezed, looking up at the girl who'd so thoroughly trounced him. Her eyes sparkled with a well disguised humor that made him think of humans who had lived too long within Vulcan colonies. Her hair was barely mussed and she'd not even broken a sweat whereas his uniform was soaked through and his hair was plastered to his damp forehead. She withdrew her sword and offered him a hand. She easily hauled him to his feet and he was acutely aware of how much taller than him she was.

Sulu gasped and wheezed, trying to force an intelligible word past his swollen lip—he'd bitten it at some point, but he still hadn't .

Chekov scrambled over the fence and ran to his side, screeching in high-pitched Russian. He tried to calm the younger boy, but all that came out was a strangled gasp. Sulu cleared his throat and tried again, this time managing a feeble "I'm okay".

"Ya mayo! Hikaru, what happened?" Pavel's fingers flew over his upper body and arms, checking for wounds. When the youth's fingers came away bloody, he uttered a frightfully loud shriek and screamed for the Doctor.

Bones came running, followed swiftly by the rest of the crew. As well as, though at a much calmer pace, the two Knights in attendance.

Sulu pulled back his sleeve to investigate the long shallow gash Keladry's practice sword left on his arm. It wasn't as severe as Pavel's flutterings indicated, but it hurt like a bitch. He felt queasy, thinking about the infections and bacteria in this world, his immune system was already fairly bolstered from working in his botany lab and all the exotic pollens he encountered, but this was a new world.

Bones was fussing with his tricorder when Sir Nealan leaned over his shoulder, a bored expression on his handsome face.

"Is that all you're squawking about Yamanai?" He reached out a hand that glowed bright emerald green. When his cool fingertips brushed against Sulu's arm he gasped and Bones yelled at the man to stop.

"Fool! I don't know what's on your fingers; don't go prodding around in an open wou…" Leonard trailed off when the cut also began to glow. Coolness spread through Sulu's forearm and the flesh itched a bit. Quickly the scrape began to heal, scabbing over and then all that was left was a shiny patch of new skin.

"How did you do that? Where's your dermal regenerator? Why didn't you clean the wound first?!" Bones seethed at Sir Nealan, gripping the younger man by the front of his shirt.

Neal closed his hand around Bones's wrist and the glow brightened until Leonard released him with a bitten back shriek.

"Neal!" Keladry admonished the man and slapped the back of her hand against his shoulder.

"Relax Kel, I only gave him pins and needles," Neal turned his slightly patronizing gaze upon the EnterpriseCrew, "Now, don't think that all Knights are as easy going as me. Take hand against another, Sir Merric mayhaps, and you'll most like loose the hand. I'm an accomplished Healer, trained under Lady Knight Alanna. And if you think for a moment that she would suffer to hear I let an infection fester before closing a wound, I would be walking to the Realm of the Dead with my—," Keladry clapped a hand over his mouth and the rest of his drawling speech was lost into her boiled leather practice glove.

Raoul shot her a grateful look and turned to Kirk, "Your man is fine. Do you not have Healers where you lot come from?"

Kirk shook his head, "At least not like that, without medical instruments and all. Mr. McCoy here is our Chief Medical Officer," Kirk motioned to Bones, who was still scanning and rescanning Sulu's arm, "He is our 'healer' I guess."

Raoul nodded, "And I can tell you are their Leader, no? If I didn't know better, I'd say you were a Scanran, and the thing is, I don't know better. What do you know of the recent events here, new comer?"

Kirk looked at him bewildered, "Is Scanran another land? If Miss Alanna and Mister Numair didn't tell you, well, we're interstellar travelers for the Federation."

Sulu watched with growing alarm. These people were too different. They obviously spoke Standard, but none of them had heard of the Federation. They had massive power, that was clear from Numair and Alanna, and now this green eyed man, but there was little higher technology to speak of. The people they'd been discovered by were obviously well know and respected, after-all they referred to the King like an old friend, but none of his fellow Officers had ever heard of them. Even if it was odd that these people had never heard of the Enterprise itself, for them to have no inkling of the Federation at all was disturbing.

"Inter…stellar travelers?" Raoul repeated as he watched Neal parry words against Leonard, "You mean you are from the Realm of the Gods?"

Now it was Kirk's turn to stare, "Realm of the, No. We come from a real place outside of this solar system."

Spock leaned forward to intercede, "To be perfectly honest however, we do not know precisely where we are; therefore we might still be within the proper solar system, but not on the correct world. Likewise, we might be within another galaxy altogether,"

Scotty and Uhura scowled at the Vulcan who merely shrugged as if to say, 'what? Kirk was being inaccurate. Again.'

Raoul laughed at the Vulcan, actually laughed, "Hahaha, that's rich. So, yes, obviously you lot are not Gods, and Alanna said Daine doesn't think you're Immortals… Are you lot some sorry experiment Orzone preformed before the War?"

"Och, please, Sair, nothing you say makes verra much sense," Scotty rubbed his eyes, "Ah'm just a lug-head from Engineering. I just wanna get back to mah engines. If you say we're from O' Realm o' the Gods, well, Ah think we'd be best inclined to smile and agree with yeh,"

Raoul and Neal both laughed heartily, Keladry hid her smile behind a hand, "Now here is a man after my own. Not a word misspoken, and no risks taken in that answer, now was there?" Raoul slung an arm around Scotty's shoulders and steered the group toward the castle proper.

The group was just being led toward the kitchens, much to Scotty's pleasure, when a young boy came running up to them. He skidded to a stop and bowed low to Raoul and Nealan, and then blushed a bright shade of red when he turned to bow to Keladry. Sulu was amused to see that while Miss Keladry was oblivious to her admirer, her male friends were not.

"His Grace says to tell you he is ready to receive the, the travelers," the boy squeaked, "His Grace is in the Council Room off of the Eastern Solar, if it pleases m'Lord,"

"No it does not please m'Lord!" Raoul glowered at the page who cowered even more, "The Eastern Solar is clear on the other side of the castle!"

"Hence this being the Western side, that would be where the Eastern Solar'd be," Neal drawled.

Sulu watched the tall man turn an alarming shade of red and mutter dangerously. In all the years he'd been a part of Star Fleet he had never come across a culture so intense in its appearance as a feudal monarchy, but so different in the way it actually operated. These people obviously bowed and paid allegiance to a King, but they discussed him as one of his crew might discuss the Captain, or the way Kirk and Spock acted with Chris Pike. There was little of the fear they usually encountered with feudalistic civilizations, but there was also no room for defiance for the Crew themselves. Sulu had little doubt that were they able to slip their guards for even a moment, they would soon find themselves back in custody. And that time, there would be no kid gloves nor genial treatment.

So far Kirk's Crew had been treated very well. They'd been feed a quick, but good lunch, and would have been treated to dinner had the summons not come. For all that he had been thoroughly trounced by the dream-eyed girl Keladry, there had been no malice in her attack. It had been a genuine sparring match against an opponent Sulu was sure none of his peers could match. Despite the fact that this Sir Nealan and the Doctor were busy arguing medicine and appropriate patient healer/doctor conduct, he didn't feel as ill at ease as he knew he should. At his elbow, poor Chekov looked ready to keel over and with each step closer to this King, the boy seemed to turn an even worse shade of pale green. He tried to bolster the Navigator's courage with a smile, but the crackling twist of lips he got in return was terrible. Sulu twined his fingers around Pavel's and squeezed which at least got him a better smile and a softly whispered 'thank you'. Sir Raoul and Scotty seemed to be talking quite amicably with Jim or Spock butting in periodically with questions and corrections respectively. Uhura however continued to look puzzled and disturbed.

Sulu watched her continually fiddle with her universal translator device, and spared a look down at his. He didn't immediately see what would be causing the lovely brown skinned beauty to look so confused, but after a moment he realized his device wasn't being activated. He watched sharply for the blinking lights on his fellow crewmate's, but their's too seemed de-activated. He caught the woman's eye and nodded down to her translator with a question on his face. But her frown and the shake of her head held little answers.

So instead he put the niggling concern from his mind and studied the Palace as they walked through. It was a beautiful old thing, covered in tapestries that depicted races of all colors. Here seemed to be a history of conquest, there a detailed ocean scene with distinctly oriental barques heading toward islands. On another tapestry there were hundreds of fanciful beasts from dragons down to horrible looking silver birds with human heads. On that tapestry a girl who looked remarkably like the one who'd turned into an eagle stood with a glowing badger, grasping her large bow and aiming at one of the silver harpy-like creatures. Beside her a tall man in black robes seemed to be lighting an apple tree on fire.

He thought back to that morning, 'was it only this morning?' and felt a shiver pass through him, 'If that girl has anything to do with these tapestries, I'm happy she went on ahead of us,'.

Another thing that disturbed him was the familiar way these people spoke of their gods. On most other worlds he'd been to, the people's gods were either similar to that of the Earth's with no concrete evidence for or against, or were fake gods. These people spoke of the gods doing things in the present, as though just last week a deity had, if he was eaves dropping on Raoul's conversation correctly, caused a giant golden statue to come to life. Surely these people had been visited by a more advanced, space emergent race and fooled into think the new comers were actual gods. But these people didn't seem to have the same fearful, fanatical worship of them that normally accompanied that sort of situation. Again, as with their talk of the King, these people acted familiar with and fond of their gods.

After an impossibly long walk that went by far too quickly, the group found themselves outside an immense oak door decorated with elaborate cartouches and guarded by two men in plate armor and spears. No, not spears, Sulu realized,

'Naginata,' the long staves were capped with heavy, wickedly sharp looking blades. The bright blue tassels at the bottom of the teak staves were silken and seemed to flutter by themselves in the slight breeze of the corridor. Keladry greeted them with a bow very similar to what he knew politeness dictated in Japan, and a handful of distinctly Japanese sounding words. He didn't understand any of them, and a quick look at his translator revealed little more than a cursorily greeting and something about a calm pool.

Uhura looked up sharply, and made eye contact with him. She mouthed something at him, but before he could figure out what it was the heavy doors flew open and Lady Alanna swept out to usher them inside.

Terrifyingly, she instructed the guards to let no one but the Queen disturb them until otherwise instructed.

He felt Pavel begin to tremble on his arm, and he suddenly agreed. Queer, ice cold fear slide down his spine as he took in the richly furnished room. Weapons decorated the walls, thick carpets covered the floor. A roaring fire heated the room to just the point of discomfort, and there, behind a massive mahogany desk covered in heavily pinned and marked maps, stood a tall handsome dark haired man. His clear blue eyes flashed over their group and a strong hand stroked his black beard.

"Ah, welcome to Corus," The man walked around the desk to stand next to Numair, who despite towering over the man, began to look much less fierce than this lion in rich blue and silver velvets,

"I am the King,

"And what are you doing in my Realm?"


	6. Kirk to King

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I know y'all don't particularly care about my day to day life; I am merely a conduit for a story that you (hopefully) like and want to read. But that's why I put my a/n's in bold, so you can just skip past them whilst whistling Dixie. I have been back to University for about a month and a half now, and it is effectively consuming my soul. On top of my coursework in American Sign Language and Linguistics, I am the Stage Manager and Set Director for a showing of A Very Potter Musical one of my clubs is performing so I am running flat out. I apologize for my updates being slow and few between, and the vast number of mini one-shot ficlets that crop up when I'm supposed to be taking notes in my graduate courses (like the a/n is being written in). 
> 
> Oh, and I've become obsessed with Doctor Who (yes, yes, I'm late to the ball, but remember, I live outside of the United States and Europe most of the year) so ... yeah, more of my time get's eatten up. That and Torchwood. I've fallen in love with Harkness and Ianto and Owen :D. ...does that make me sexist? 
> 
> Chapter Six: Captain to King
> 
> Point of View: Kirk

James T. Kirk was seldom scared. Not that he'd never been scared, certainly he'd been in situations where he'd feared for his life and the lives of those under his protection; but he'd never been this scared.

Standing in that opulent room, seeing armor and weapons on the wall that bore signs of earnest and effective use, made him wish he'd just accepted a position in engineering like his first girlfriend had begged. Never mind that he'd never have gotten to Star Ship Captain, never mind that as he would most likely have died in some incident or another three weeks into his post, all that Kirk cared about was that he wouldn't be standing in this room, in front of this King, on this strange planet where no one knew who he was and he wasn't sure how he'd save his crew.

As he stood he affected the slightly relaxed pose he knew irritated Spock but put most humans at ease. He felt the disapproval roll through his bond with the Vulcan, but more so he felt the same fear and worry he was experiencing. A quick glance revealed his CMO and CO standing, shoulders touching, fingertips just grazing each other, with both sets of eyes trained on him with intensity and protective worry. It made him feel better know that his two most trusted officers were there with him; it made him feel even better to know that the rest of his bridge crew was there as well. Even if their chances of a speedy return to the ship in the nick of time if something went foul now was nill since Scotty was with them rather than in the transporter bay, he still found comfort in knowing the best minds in all of 'Fleet were at his back.

Before him stood the female Knight Alanna, the strange man Numair that people here claimed was a mage, and someone who looked as though they'd been cut from a cloth specifically meant to be made into a king. His short hair was jet black without a single grey strand, and piercing blue eyes made to judge men gazed calmly at him from a face that would be handsome were it smiling rather than looking at Kirk with suspicion. His clothing was rich and well made, but seemed simpler than Jim expected of a ruler. The only signs of wealth on the man were his rings, a sapphire earring in one lobe, and the ornate crown perched easily on his head. Kirk knew he was expected to kneel, or something, but his pride balked even under his fear. Instead he settled for a stiff half bow, more of a bob than a sign of fealty.

The silence stretched as Kirk waited. His skin crawled like he was covered in creeping slime. He shivered and stood straighter, coughing lightly into his fist. He could tell Spock could feel the sensation as well, but he didn't know if it was a carryover of his and Bones' nerves, or something coming from that level blue gaze.

"Ahem… Well, Sir, I am Captain James Tiberius Kirk of the Starship USS Enterprise call number NCC-1711, this is my Bridge Crew, and we are here by mistake,"

Blue eyes crinkled in something, mirth or annoyance Kirk couldn't tell, and he felt his tongue dry in his mouth. The creeping feeling grew worse, and now he felt as though three different hands were roving over his body and down behind his eyes to press into his brain. It struck him that some device was scanning him, maybe a type of medical instrument, or worse case a targeting weapon.

"I assure you, many people who arrive in this room feel as though they are here by mistake, but seldom have such a confusing group of people found themselves so deep in a restricted area of the realm by 'mistake'. I also assure you that if you lie to me, I will know,"

Kirk felt the cold sweat roll down his back, but he forced a bravos smile to his face and ran a thankfully still hand through his hair,

"Well, I assure you that I couldn't come up with a lie right now if my life depended on it,"

"Which is a lie,"

With a start he swung his gaze toward Alanna, who wasn't even looking at him, but rather watching the air between him and his crew, toying with the glowing gem of her necklace,

"Do not undersell your intelligence Sir Kirk, but do not take for granted my King's,"

Kirk nodded slowly, "I apologize, I… I suppose I could come up with a story, but the truth is we don't know where we are, how we got here, or why it happened,"

The King looked hard at him, full lips quirking under his moustache, "James was it? You are a brave leader to continue to keep information from us in hopes to protect your crew, but I must ask again for you to tell me exactly what you know,"

Kirk swallowed and turned back to the monarch, "We, we know how we happened to come here. We were transporting to another planet from our ship, one called Ancash XI, during an Ion Storm, which affected the transport badly. The next thing we know, we woke up in that forest. And they," Kirk pointed at Numair and Alanna, "placed us under a force field, took our weapons, and escorted us here. I promise you, other than wild guesses, we don't know anymore about how or why we ended up here, and we certainly didn't know where we had ended up. Might you um, explain where we were? And why we weren't supposed to be there? It looked just like a regular forest,"

The King shared a glance with Alanna, then he inclined his head toward Numair, "Numair, it is your handiwork there, would you prefer to be the one to explain it?"

The taller man covered his face with a gigantic hand, his knuckles pronounced along long fingers, and the tips blackened with ink and dirt, and he sighed,

"I turned a man into an apple tree,"

In the silence that followed there was a crushing feeling of disbelief coming from his crew. Numair noticed it first, then Alanna and King Jonathan shared a concerned glance.

It was of course Chekov who broke the silence,

"But that iz, impossible… to turn a man into a twee," Chekov grabbed Bones' sleeve, "Isn't it Doktor?"

"Chekov… I don't know what's possible anymore," Bones' gruff voice did little to comfort their youngest member, but it would have to do.

"I am not surprised you don't understand. I am, well, since he became rather leafy, the only Mage left that has the ability to use a Word of Power like that. It was either him or me, and now, there's some poor tree out there that's a human. I'm afraid he didn't have a good start to his life but I've helped him somewhat I think,"

Kirk weakly raised his left hand, feeling faint, "Please stop talking…"

The King walked forward, stopping well inside Kirk's personal space,

"I want to know, are you a danger to my people?"

Spock moved to protect him, he knew because he could feel the surge of protective anger in his mind, but all Jim could do was look into those hard blue eyes. Framed with the longest, darkest lashes he'd ever seen on a man, they captivated him and stole his breath for long moments,

"I… we, our mission is one of peace, no matter where we go,"

It wasn't good enough for the King, and he pressed closer, laying a hand that sparked blue on Jim's shoulder,

"Again: Are. You. A. Danger?" A hint of steel under King Jonathan's rich voice made Kirk look him square in the eye. Jim recognized his expression, he'd worn it many times already when considering an enemy's danger to his crew.

"We are dangerous, Your Highness, very much so. But we would never do anything to disturb your world. I swear it," Kirk held his head high, meeting the ruler of this world right on and without pretense.

"All I wanted was the truth. Thank you," Jonathan reached out and shook hands with Captain Kirk, "Now, how about I tell you a little about where you are?"

The sudden change in atmosphere fairly made him sag with relief, and Kirk laughed nervously, "That would be wonderful, but I think I need to sit down,"

Kirk slumped into the chair nearest to him and let out a gigantic breath.

Both Alanna and The King began to laugh in earnest, while Numair simply grinned at them. Spock moved forward and took his place while Bones moved swiftly to his side and gripped his shoulder reassuringly.

"I would be more than willing to learn more about this world. I have no record of anything here within the databases," Spock gestured to his PADD.

"Here, Master Numair would surely be more than happy to give you a history lesson," Jonathan pushed Numair toward Spock and walked closer to Kirk.

Kirk was focusing on his mental barrier between him and Spock, trying to keep his adrenaline spike and worry from the Vulcan and jumped when the King laid a hand on his shoulder.

"I do not apologize for your treatment, because I know Alanna and Numair were undoubtedly fine to you. But I do apologize for the situation that you are in, and the fact that at the moment I am at a loss as to what to do," Jonathan smoothed his beard with one hand, "I will contact the City of the Gods in the morning, right now they're busy with the culmination of a rather important event. I'm sure they will be able to think of something though,"

Alanna leaned over his chair too, "And I'll see if the Goddess would be able to do anything. If worse comes to worst, though, I suppose Daine might be able to ask her parents for help,"

"The Godde—," Jonathan cut McCoy off,

"What about Kitten's family? Could the Dragons bring them back like they did for Daine and Numair?"

Kirk straightened up in his seat. For a moment his face was dizzyingly close to Jonathan's. The firm heat of Bones' hand on his back sent a guilty feeling down his spine even as his eyes followed the King's lips and chiseled jaw line.

"I'm sorry, but what? There are… options to send us home?" He lurched forward, ignoring Alanna's warning hand on her sword, "You, you even understand what our problem is?"

Bone's continued to rub the back of his neck and shoulders, but it didn't take a peek at their connection to know the doctor was just as confused as he was. Sulu, Chekov, Uhura, and Scotty turned from listening to Numair's lecture at his strained and high pitched voice.

"Captain? What do you mean, they understand our problem?" Spock was the first to appear next to him, hovering just too far inside his personal space for a Vulcan to be quite proper, but no human would notice the closeness.

Numair joined them much more slowly, his black robes fluttering languidly. 'Why on earth is everyone here gorgeous?' Kirk felt the blood rise in his face when Numair laughed,

"Of course I understand. We, understand," Numair twirled his fingers, an idle spark of black light dancing across his fingertips, "You have made it clear you all are visitors from another world. Well, we're well versed in other worlds here in Tortall. We have the contacts to call in to see if we can help you get home. It just might… take a while,"

"Y'all really are a calm people, aren't ye?" McCoy's gruff question made the redhead at Kirk's left hand laugh.

"We can't afford to be shocked anymore you see," She smiled upwards at something, "It just keeps getting stranger since the barrier went down. You lot are just the next strange thing. I'm glad, I must say, that for once the newest strange thing isn't something that I need to figure out how to kill,"

"We shall endeavor to not cause you desire for our deaths, Lady Alanna," Spock nodded stiffly.

"I should hope not. Now, if I might ask my own questions, what are these devices I took from you earlier? I tried to probe them, but there's an energy signature that I don't recognize. Who made them for you? They must be quite a powerful mage, yet I don't know of them," Numair gently lifted one of the phasers from his pocket.

"Och, be careful with tha one. I specially altered it," Scotty quipped up with a guilty look towards Kirk.

"Altered the phaser? How?" Uhura covered her face with a hand.

"Before we get to the altered one then, can you please explain their purpose?" Numair gently interceded.

"Ah, yes, well, they're phaser—our weapons," Kirk looked back at Jonathan, "Please, do be careful with them,"

"What good can such a small thing be? They have no blade on them. What sort of Magic does it produce?" Alanna queried, reaching for one.

"Magic? Again with the Magic," Chekov whispered to Sulu and Nyota.

"I can explain it to y'es," Scotty stepped forward, beckoning for one of the devices.

"I sense that a demonstration would be more to Our Lioness's liking, Sir Montgomery," Jonathan nodded to Numair who handed the phaser lightly to the Scotsman. He then moved a large, hot hand to the base of Kirk's throat, black fire making a tingling, sparking necklace of light over his skin.

"S-Scotty, just to be clear, a demonstration in the literal, peaceful sense," He managed to choke out. Spock and Bones were on either side of him and Numair, fairly growling to themselves.

"Understood Cap'ain," Scotty looked around the room briefly, "Are… ye particularly fond o' that chair there?" He pointed to a chair set away in the corner of the room.

All three Tortallans shook their heads 'no' and Scotty nodded, and then activated the phaser. The chair disappeared in a puff and cloud of smoke, the loud noise causing the guards at the door to burst inside.

Jonathan merely traded glances with his two friends, waved the guards away, and took his seat at the edge of his immense desk.

"Remarkable. I trust you'll understand that I wish you to leave these devices in safe keeping with myself until you are able to return to your world, yes?"

"Too damn calm," Bones murmured into his hand.

Kirk nodded to King Jonathan, fervently agreeing with McCoy's statement.

Alanna gathered the phasers up and placed them in a black silken bag, "I'll keep track of these, Sire,"

"Have you communicated with Daine?" Numair was kneeling beside where the chair had been and started,

"Yes, the siege ended but she and Kitten are staying the night and coming back with Tkaa tomorrow. She said she'll ask the Badger if he can help…" His sentence trailed off, "There's no dust?"

He looked sharply at Scotty, "There's no dust. How can there be no dust? You can't just destroy something and not leave a trace, no residual energy, no dust,"

"You understand the concept of conservation of mass?" Spock craned around Scotty, almost giving into curiosity.

"….You do not?" Every one of the EnterpriseCrew laughed hysterically at the expression on Spock's face.

"Wha' Spock is trying to convey is, ah, well, we're nae used to other cultures this… prim…i…tive? Nae, not primitive, um, well,"

"You're unaccustomed to this level of scientific knowledge in a world that isn't as advanced as your own?" Numair leveled his gaze at Spock, who at least had the decency to look uncomfortable, if not chagrined, "I understand. But you must understand that we are apparently nothing like you've encountered before. Our world is one of magic, science, and faith completely intertwined,"

"I would say that's impossible… too idyllic and perfect to be real," Uhura began.

"But we have our troubles," Finished the King, "Wars with Scanra, Carthage; the Copper Isles are in a revolt right now, one that we've been barred from by Divine interference…" Jonathan trailed off.

Kirk looked at Bones, mouthing 'divine interference' and receiving the same troubled look back.

"Enough of this dreary talk. I am sure you are all exhausted and would rather like a proper sit down. I can have you shown to quarters here in the castle. I must ask you to remain within the Palace grounds for the time being. My people are calm for the most part, but with so many battles for so long, this peace is fragile and I don't want them to have cause for alarm. You came in with two of the most trusted and respected people in these lands. Without them, you might seem suspicious," Jonathan pushed off from his desk and strode to the doors, opening them and giving the guards outside orders.

Kirk noticed the abrupt difference in nature the King presented. When they'd first arrived Jim was willing to bet large amounts of credits, and his life, that they would have soon found themselves in a dungeon or worse. But that icy, Kingly, exterior had melted away as soon as he'd assured the man that they were not there to cause problems. King Jonathan turned into a charming man while discussing how they'd gotten here, and downright humorous over the phasers. But as soon as the door had opened, he became the King again and gave orders with a stiff and cool air. Not as cold as when they'd been shown in, but the difference was so stark that Kirk wondered just when this man was allowed to show his true face anymore.

The King turned back and motioned them out of his office, "I need to tend to Legann at the moment, so," He pointed to the door, "Out. Alanna, Numair, I need to talk with the two of you. The rest of you, wait in the other room. Some servents will be with you in a moment,"

As the door was closing, Numair lunged through and gripped both Spock and Scotty by the sleeves, "Wait! You two! I want to pick your brains before you go and disappear!" and he was yanked back into the room.

Scotty turned to the rest of them, and cleared his throat, "Ah know it's Mista Spock's job ta take things too lit'rally, but… I'm worried about that he MEANS it!"

Kirk leaned against Bones and reached a hand out to Scotty, Spock already standing at his elbow as always. Uhura, Sulu, and Chekov seemed to deflate and gathered closer,

"I'm sure he… doesn't, Scotty," Kirk looked around at his crew and smiled, feeling better for the first time since they woke up in the clearing that morning, "I think… We lucked out on this accident. I like it here,"


	7. Logical Healing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Welcome back for another installment of Beam Us Down Tortall. Anyone miss me? As my recent trend in drabbles shows, I've become engrossed with Doctor Who and Torchwood, which have apparently verra active fanfiction readers :D. Nothing is more satisfying than seeing 100+ views a day :dances about:. 
> 
> Point of View: Spock.

His Captain seemed to have recovered well from the crushing weight of authority this King wielded, and Spock allowed himself to relax a bit as he inspected the room around him. Exquisitely wrought swords and maces decorated the walls between detailed hand painted maps. One depicted a nation of many islands, its labels vaguely Japanese sounding. Another had the word 'Tortall' embossed upon the parchment in gold leaf and expensive inks. One labeled Carthak and another with "Scanra" sketched across the top were covered with what could only represent battle lines and coding.

He watched as Sulu enfolded Ensign Chekov in his arms and pressed a reassuring kiss to the younger man's hair. Looking over to Uhura he was pleased to see that Scotty was also comforting her as they inspected the books on a shelf together. He heard her surprised exclamation over some impressive anthology of a desert dwelling people.

"Look at this! It details some sort of… ritual that symbolically ties together the people. It's amazing, but whoever wrote this book keeps addressing the reader as someone called the Voice…" She trailed off.

"Did the Lady Alanna not mention the King was called the 'Voice' as well?"

Uhura looked thoughtfully at the door, "You're right Spock… I wonder what that means?"

"It is most likely some sort of cultural designation the people have. Rather than calling him 'King' it is this… 'Voice' nomenclature," Spock was uneasy.

He felt tentatively at his bonds to both Leonard and James, and tried to ascertain their mental states.

Leonard was as always irascible and angry at the situation. The testy Doctor's mind hummed along while the automatic inventory of his fellow crew mates compiled. Spock felt when the Doctor deemed everyone in sufficiently good health as to relax, and he felt himself relax minutely as well. As a Vulcan, Spock was never quite sure about the overall health of the crew, and he appreciated Leonard's professional opinion; especially at a time like this. Spock felt the soothing rush of McCoy's particular brand of affection travel through their bond, and he shared a small almost-smile with him.

James was a different matter. For some reason the Captain had erected quite impenetrable mental walls between them as soon as he'd realized of the mating bond and connection between himself, Doctor McCoy, and Spock. Were it anyone else, Spock would have been impressed in the solid nature to the walls in such a psy-null race like a human, but because he (and Leonard) were the ones being locked out, he only felt a deep sadness and worry.

Jim had time and time again assured both his lovers that he did not regret the bond, but he still refused to let his mental barriers down for the other two men. It made Spock unsure, and as though he'd forced the Captain into a relationship the gorgeous man hadn't wanted.

Though, Spock thought with another inward smile, the Captain's eagerness to share both men's beds, free time, and general companionship seemed to indicate otherwise. Leonard had groused, complained, and finally settled into the conclusion that "Damn it, Jimbo's weirder than anything the universe has seen. Maybe this is just another damned layer of strange,"

Spock hoped this were the case.

On a more immediate note, the connection he felt to James was calm, with just a bit of the lingering fright from their meeting. Jim must have felt the tug, and he flashed first Spock, and then Bones as dazzling smile from where he and Scotty were inspecting a gilded suit of armor.

Spock would have sighed, were it proper, and instead chose to vent his frustration with his Captain by standing straighter. Vulcan passive-aggressiveness was much less satisfying that Human, he was discovering.

'Spock, don't worry. He's fine,' Leonard was staring at him, and he inclined his head to show the southern man that he'd heard, 'Remember, I knew him for a while before comin' to the ship. He's shaken, probably scared for all of us, but he feels pretty safe all considering. He's not watching the doors or windows like a hawk, so he must think this King will keep his word that we're safe,'

'Indeed Leonard, I suppose that is true. I sense nothing from the bond, though I do wish the Captain would let us in. I wish to know what he thinks about the situation, and this is the only way secure from listening devices,' Spock let his left eyebrow titter on the edge of being raised.

'Don't worry Sugar. Idiot over there will probably come around eventually. He probably is just freaked out by this entire situation. And havin' a Hobgoblin rootin' around in his head ain't something he'd ever prepared for. This,' Leonard rolled his eyes indicating their current predicament, 'like it or not, IS something he's more or less prepared for. He loves us. Don't worry,' 

'As a Vulcan I do not WORRY, Leonard,'

'My ass,'

Spock decided to resist being provoked into another argument and instead moved to speak with the young maid who had just arrived bearing a large silver tray heavily laden with various consumables and a large pitcher of some dark red juice.

"Begging your Lordship's pardon," the girl curtsied and looked at Uhura, "And your Ladyship's, I have brought some food and drink. Is there anything else I can do for you?"

"Yes, please, what is in all this?" Spock looked critically at the food, which seemed to consist of cured meats and seasonal vegetables in a broth. A platter of fresh bread steamed beneath a cloth, and the pewter pitcher was fragrant and heavy with citrus and a pomegranate like smell.

"The kitchens are banked at the moment, Sir, so I had to go to the Rider's mess. There is a good soup with turnips and such and some sausage, and braised mutton. The juice is from my King's own blend. Pomegranate and orange Milord," The girl curtsied again.

"Thank you," Spock looked over the soup, and sniffed delicately. It seemed safe for the crew to eat, but he was hesitant to risk their health over new germs and strange allergies.

"What's your name?" Kirk strode forward and offered his hand. The girl cringed away momentarily and then daintily placed her hand in his, "Lalassa, if it pleases Milord. Can I do anything else for you?"

"Yes, I would like to know more about this King Jonathan. If you don't mind," Kirk twinkled at the girl, and Spock knew she wouldn't be able to resist giving any and all information asked. James just seemed to have that effect on, well, everyone encountered.

'Not Klingons,' Leonard chuckled at his own joke.

"W-well, I don't have much interaction with the King, Milord, but I own a dressmaker's shop in the city proper and my best customer is the Queen. T-the King is most just, and fair, and He never goes back on his word," Lalassa seemed to realize she was babbling and blushed, ducking her head, "Beggin' your pardon, I mean, that is what everyone else says,"

"If you are a dress maker, why have you here as a maid today?" Sulu leaned around the girl to snag a piece of bread and he buttered it.

"Milady Keladry is back in the Palace. I have come back to assist her as she asked me to look after you all. You see, she, I was her maid during her page-hood and training here at the Palace, and I would do anything for her,"

There was obvious love and care in the young woman's voice as she spoke of the hazel eyed knight that so thoroughly trounced Sulu earlier, that Spock suspected the two had had a deeper friendship rather than just maid and master.

"I see you two are quite close friends," Uhura voiced the same opinion and smiled sweetly at the girl.

"Y-yes, I suppose we are friends now. She saved my life, and gave me a chance no others would," The girl beamed, "Is there, anything else that I can help you with?"

Sulu and Chekov drew the girl away with questions about the city, Uhura and Scotty listening intently. Spock walked over to Leonard and Kirk with three glasses of juice and a plate of meat balanced on them. He handed them over, and retrieved himself a bowl of the soup. As it cooled, he leveled a gaze at Jim that he knew the other man would understand.

"I don't know Spock. I think we're fine. The man didn't seem like he was lying, and whatever technology they have in there that they keep calling magic is clearly powerful enough to cause us serious harm. If they'd intended on killing, or just hurting us even, don't you think Numair and Alanna would have done so in the woods? Not buy us food and escort us to the bloody King. Didn't you see in there? They didn't bat and eye when Scotty vaporized that chair. I know ensigns that jump whenever a tricorder goes off,"

Leonard nibbled on a strip of jerky and made a face, "Though I'm not sure they ain't tyin' to poison us with mutton," He ignored and indignant squawk that floated over to them from Scotty and continued, "I agree with Jim. I think we're fine, for now. It seems provided we toe the line here an' don't cause too much ruckus we're welcome here. And, I kinda like it. That girl knocked Sulu head over heels,"

"And this is cause to feel favorably toward them?" Spock shook his head, "But, I do think you are both right,"

"You do?" Chorused Kirk and McCoy, grinning widely at each other.

Spock frowned, knowing he was being made fun of.

However, his witty retort was overcome by a tremendous roar from within the King's meeting room.

It was the woman Alanna, yelling about something, and the two men trying to calm her it seemed. The entire room froze, guards at the door included, and Lalassa fairly squeaked in fright when Keladry, Raoul, and Sir Nealan returned with armfuls of clothing. The mountainous man Raoul merely shook his head at the door and smiled, laughing, "That's our Lioness. Are they talking about Legann? I'm sure she isn't happy to hear her husband and son are down there,"

"I wouldn't know about that, but they indeed said they were to discuss the situation at a 'Port Legann'. What is happening?" Spock accepted the clothing Nealan offered him.

"Wyverns are attacking, and we assume it's at the behest of the dissenters to Emperor Kaddar's rule in Carthage. Though officially it's just raiders on all the documents," Keladry handed her bundles over to Uhura, Sulu, and Chekov. She smiled at Sulu kindly, who blushed. Chekov on the other hand glared at her with all the unseen rage he possessed. That being said, Spock was amused to see not a single other person realized the glare the tiny Russian was sending the young lady's way.

"That was a lot of information that none of us understood, but thank you Ma'am," Bones shook out the clothing handed to him and promptly turned pink, "What are these? There're no, no pants?!"

"What is wrong?" Neal grinned wickedly at the doctor, "Don't you appreciate the high fashion of our world?"

One by one the other officers inspected their new clothes. Tunics, matching in color to their command shirts, with white, blouse sleeved undershirts and black leggings which undoubtedly looked quite sharp were what had been provided to them.

"Neal! I told you to get breeches!" Kel admonished her friend.

"Fiiine mother, here you are," Neal pulled matching black breeches from his bag. Hemmed with silver and gold thread, the garments were obviously high quality.

"These are all items from Lalassa's shop," Kel announced, turning to motion to the blushing woman trying to edge from the room.

Lalassa smiled quickly, and fairly sprinted from the room, allowing her friends a fond chuckle, "You'll excuse her, she is quite shy and I dragged her away from work to watch you all,"

"No offense taken, Ma'am. Though you will have to inform her that we appreciate her help immensely," Uhura shared a smile with Kel.

"You all can change in the adjoining room there. Don't worry, there's no way out," Raoul informed them with a wink.

Spock felt the entire crew looked quite authentic in the clothing brought to them, and commented so as they returned to praise from Raoul, Neal, and Keladry.

"Well, what are we to do now? Apparently, Mister Numair wants to talk with myself and Mr. Scott after this discussion is over," Spock queried.

"Well, we would be happy to show you the way to your rooms, or give you a tour, or what have you. There's always going back to the training yards," Raoul informed the group with a mischievous smirk.

The group was still discussing their options when Alanna stormed into the room, followed closely by Numair and King Jonathan.

"I can't BELIEVE he…" Alanna trailed off when she saw her audience, and the Crew's new clothing, "Oh, don't you all look lovely. Now, Mister Sulu, I hear you went up against Miss Keladry? How did you fair? And would you like to fence against me?"

Sulu paled dramatically and stammered out a denial.

Alanna just laughed, and clapped a hand on his shoulder, "Don't worry my boy, not many people here can beat her in a fair fight,"

Spock and Scotty looked at each other, and then to Numair, who stood, hands in the pockets of his robe smiling at them.

"I would love to talk to the two of you, if you don't mind. I'll show you my workshop, if you like,"

"That would be most pleasurable," Spock volunteered, seeing the gleam in Scotty's eye. And with that, the three of them departed, Spock and Scotty trading slightly less tense goodbyes with the rest of the crew.

'Do your hoodoo if he tries anything funny, Spock,' Leonard wasn't shy about letting his concern bleed through their connection, and Spock could also feel the apprehension that Jim felt.

'Myself and Mr. Scott will be fine, I assume. I shall alert you to any strange happenings, and if we begin to feel perturbed. If that satisfies you, would you also let Jim know that we will be alright?'

'Yeah, sure thing Hobgoblin,'

Spock followed close to Numair as they walked through the immense stone halls, not wanting to become lost. He and Scotty both noticed the odd lighting system used in wall sconces that obviously had previously held torches. Large globes of quartz and other crystals gave off a clear, unwavering light. There were no visible outlets, cords, or power source to any of the globes.

"Mista Numair, would ye mind tellin' us how these lights operate?" Scotty plucked one from a sconce and inspected it closely, "Because if Ah didn' know better, Ah'd say this was solid crystal,"

"That's because it is," Numair selected a smaller ball and held it tightly in his hand, "We use quartz mostly, but other stones give a nice atmosphere for other situations, though none last so long as quartz. It is a remarkably receptive stone to call light to. A mage will take a seed of power and trap it within the crystal matrix, letting it bounce against the planes of each crystal until it has accumulated enough power to glow at the desired level. Then it is sealed, and used wherever it is needed. Though, the lights do wear down after a while, and occasionally for exceptionally bright lights the energy becomes too much of a strain on the crystal and it breaks,"

"When you say 'magic', Mr. Numair, what do you mean by that?" Spock took the offered crystal and ran his sensitive fingertips over the surface, indeed unable to find a hinge or other sign of an interior compartment.

"Well, I mean magic. The Gift. How is it that you all don't know about the Gift?" Numair returned the globe to its proper place and the trio continued their walk toward Numair's offices.

"Magic is not real where we come from. Nor any of the other worlds we have visited, Mr. Numair,"

"Please, just Numair is fine. And that's fascinating. But you have those weapons, the phasers? Do they not run off the Gift or something like it?"

"Nay, just electricity, Mister Numair," Scotty interjected.

"Numair. This is incredible. I never even considered that the Gift, that magic, wouldn't be found on other worlds. I can see though, if you'd never encountered it, that it would seem impossible," Numair stopped before a door bearing his and Daine's names, "And you've mastered a way to control the electrical current in the devices? Open the door, please,"

"Who's in there?" Scotty peered into the room as the heavy door swung open slowly.

"No-one, I have a locking spell on the door. It only opens for a few people,"

"A spell? And yes, we, well, where we come from, most of our technology is electrically based. Or something similar," Scotty ran his fingers along the door jam and inspected the lock, "But there's no device here! Nothing at all,"

"You all commented earlier that we seem far too accepting of strange things. It seems to me, that you are not as accepting as you should be," Numair grinned, "Of course there's nothing there. It's just a spell, and incantation with a few runes sketched in the air. Nothing concrete is needed for something so simple,"

"It just is that magic, or the appearance of magic, has always been falsified by continued observation in our experience," Spock spoke smoothly, peering about the room intently. It was a terrifyingly messy mixture of devices, charts, books, and animal paraphernalia. Tack was draped across instruments that looked like a complex weight system, and books were stacked on a table next to dishes of all sizes.

"Well, would you like a demonstration?" Numair grinned wickedly, his dark eyes filling with a crackling black light that intrigued Spock and Scotty as much as it frightened them.

"Yes," they both agreed.

Numair turned to the room, raising hands that glittered with black fire, and gently spread his fingers. Ribbons of fire streamed from each finger and surrounded select items. He twitched first the fingers of his left hand, then right, and the object were jerked from their places and began to fly toward the obvious proper storage compartments. Swiftly, the room went from a scattered mess, to neatly organized and clean.

Spock stared coolly at his tricorder, which recorded nothing whatsoever on any channel. Scotty too stared, mouth open and eyes wide.

"But there's nothin'! Nothin' there t'all!" He cried.

"Just magic. My Gift," Numair twiddled his fingers again and his robe floated away to rest neatly on the hook behind the door, "Not everyone has the Gift, nor another type of magic. Daine, who you met earlier, is a rare one who possesses Wild Magic. A connection to the animal kingdom. She cannot do the same type of spells I do, but she can communicate with animals, take their form, and ride within their minds as a psychic passenger. There's also the Sight, another form of magic, and a few other rare types of magic. The Bahazir tribes have a type that comes from the earth, similar to the Dhoi of the Roof of the World, and people like that,"

"This is just a wee bit much to swallow at once, Mister Numair," Scotty sank into one of the nearest chairs, and yelped as a cat voiced it's displeasure from under the pillows.

"Sorry," Numair called after the creature as it left the room.

"I understand, but I hope I have convinced you that this is not some type of illusion or trickery… Though much of magic's use is indeed rooted in illusion and deception…" Numair continued to babble, his line of dialogue interrupted by questions from Spock and Scotty and the occasional explanation for some object. He explained to them about Words of Power, about the limitations of magical use, and its rules.

Spock found the man's wildly fluctuating train of thought mildly irritating, but quite reminiscent of the Chief Engineer's. Sure enough, Scotty was hanging on every word. Feeling along his mental connections, Spock discovered that the Captain and Leonard were still together, somewhere actually quite close.

"If I may beg your pardon, I believe I should find the Captain," Spock inclined his head, "Mister Scott, I assume I can leave you here happily?"

Scotty fluttered a hand at him absentmindedly as he studied a notebook with designs of siege weapons. Numair reached out to shake his hand, but Spock did not remove his from behind his back and the Tortallan instead patted his shoulder awkwardly.

"Don't wander outside the palace and grounds, please, and don't hesitate to ask someone if you get lost. Ask for either myself, Alanna, or where the 'Delegates' are. We've told the Palace staff that you all are important dignitaries. So by now surely the entire Kingdom knows," Numair smiled. Spock knew that both Leonard and Jim would find the man exceedingly attractive, and indeed, his mind coupled with his dark and somewhat swarthy looks made the man very handsome.

Spock walked slowly through the halls, admiring the art, armor, and other decorations on the walls. There were tapestries that obviously depicted embellished events from the kingdom's past. Though, Spock supposed, there was a chance that they were literal interpretations. In a world that seemed to have legitimate 'magic' in it, he must be more open to fantastic possibilities.

He passed a group of young boys clustered around a window, watching something in the courtyard excitedly. He would have continued on, but he realized that his bond was pulling him in the direction of that very courtyard. Spock looked out the window, over top the boys' heads, and very nearly gasped.

Jim was bare-chested in the dirt, crouched low and circling a short figure that had to be Lady Alanna, judging by the flaming hair. Spock watched as his lover first stinted left, then right, trying to throw the small woman off. Alanna glided smoothly around his punches, though she didn't seem to be attacking just yet. The boys at the window were torn between cheering for their champion, and rooting for Kirk it seemed.

"I've never seen him before, is he a Knight?" asked one who's tumble of brown curls formed a halo around his head.

"No, I don't think so, I think he's one of the Dignitaries that are visiting the King," Another boy, black skinned with shining green eyes, replied as he jostled another child for a better look, "There! Behind the fence are the rest of them, I think,"

Spock peered down where the boy was pointing, and indeed, Sulu, Chekov, Uhura, and Leonard were watching the fight. Obviously, it was a friendly match, as the Doctor seemed to be cheering for Lady Alanna. Spock cleared his throat to catch the children's attention.

"Excuse me, but how might I find my way down to the courtyard below? I wish to rejoin my fellow… dignitaries," Spock tried a small reassuring smile, but the boys scrambled to bow to him anyway. It was slightly discomforting, being treated to bows and being called a Lord, but the boys were more than happy to show him to the nearest stairwell down to the courtyard.

"Thank you," Spock watched the boys scramble back inside, and seconds later their heads poked over the sill of another window as they continued to watch the sparring match. It amused him to see Kirk trying so hard to land some type of contact on Alanna and failing, yet the woman had no problem dancing in and tapping his chest, arm, or back. Leonard waved him over, and Spock went.

"He's been going for about ten minutes now. I think it's killing him that she's just toying with him. Though I think she's surprised he's this good," Uhura laughed as Kirk turned a stumble into a quick attack of Alanna's stance.

"How did this come about?" Spock asked.

"Flirting," Chorused the Crew.

"That should have been my first guess," Spock commented dryly.

'Nothin' serious,'

'I know Leonard,

Another man had joined the group, dressed in rich green clothing. He bore a remarkable resemblance to the young Sir Nealan, though his hair was much redder, and a long hard life had made the tall man's deep green eyes sink deep in their sockets.

"Allow me to introduce myself; I am Duke Baird, Chief Healer of the Realm. I understand my son has been causing you all trouble, yes?" the man's green eyes twinkled with mirth as Neal groaned and rolled his eyes.

'I swear, everyone here is either gorgeous, red-headed, or both. And they're all TALL, with the exception of the Lady Knight over there,' Leonard voiced the same thoughts as Spock, nodding toward their friendly chaperons.

"I assure you, Mr. Nealan was most helpful. He even assisted Ensign Sulu when he acquired an injury earlier,"

"Good boy, we'll make a proper Healer of you yet,"

"I'm sure that Sir McCoy would have been able to do the job, provided we'd been willing to wait for old age,"

McCoy bristled and began a loud, angry rant that Spock, Sulu, Chekov, and Uhura ignored with practiced ease. Duke Baird also smiled and turned away, letting his excitable son enjoy the debate/argument.

"I understand that you all come from a world with no magic of this kind in it?" Baird leaned amicably against the railing next to Spock, "That must be dreadfully boring,"

"I would not presume our normal lives to be boring. As Mister Numair pointed out, we have our own technology that is quite similar to the workings of the magic here. But yes, it is quite disconcerting to see this, power, where there is literally nothing but energy within the person. I am of a telepathic race, Vulcans, so I am more able to understand the phenomenon I think, but it is still a strange encounter,"

"Telepathic, really? Is it touch based? Or, does it work over distances?" Baird's gaze sharpened as he looked over Spock.

"…Touch based, though there are instances that it is a genuine connection of the mind," Spock shifted slightly.

"Weally, you are all far too easy going here. Usually ven ve wisit another culture, Mister Spock is the first thing they single out as dangerwous and strange," Chekov ducked his head when Spock looked at him, "Sowwy Commander, but t'is true,"

"That it is," agreed Uhura.

"Well," Baird shifted, watching as Kirk managed to land a punch on Alanna only to be thrown a few yards over her shoulder, "I suppose we have so many fantastic things to wrap our minds around nowadays, that… And it's not strange to be able to talk to another person through touch using the Gift,"

Spock raised his eyebrows, "Really?"

"Yes. When I am working on a patient, I can sometimes connect to their mind and tell them to relax, or something similar. Or if I lay a hand an another person with the Gift, I can speak through our magic to them,"

He extended his hand to Spock, "Mind if I take a 'look'?"

Spock stared warily at the man's outstretched hand, then back at his crew mates. Taking a deep breath, Spock reached out and placed his hand in Baird's.

It was… Odd. Spock felt the magic like a cool trickle of water in his veins. Duke Baird's hand was cold in his and his grip firm but gentle, similar to Leonard's when he was examining a patient.

Baird began to murmur to himself, commenting on Spock's lower body temperature (please note, that Vulcan's DO have a body temp of 91F), his alien organs and strange physiology. The intrusion wasn't unpleasant, as Spock had feared, but rather felt like he was being scanned by something. At this point, McCoy and Neal had wandered back to them and were watching. Leonard's mind was concentrated on their bond with hawkish intent. From the skin contact, Spock was able to glean certain surface level thoughts from the Chief Healer. The man thought Uhura was attractive, as well as McCoy. He thought that it was amusing how easy Alanna was going on the Captain. Baird was conscious of his son's presence and felt pride in how the younger Knight was coming along. He also skirted over the last vestiges of suspicion over their identities as he discovered Spock's Vulcan nature.

When the man finally released Spock's hand, Spock realized he felt better than he had in days. His spine was no longer stiff, and the throbbing in his lower shins from the hard transporter landing was gone. He lifted his hand to watch as the last trace of green fire fled from beneath his skin, leaving just his light sage veins.

"What did you do?" He asked calmly, ignoring McCoy's immediate tension.

"Nothing much, I just gave you a perk up. It seems that your last few days have been really rough. Over extended muscles, a few bumps and bruises, something that would have developed into a cold if left alone. You've a clean ticket of health now,"

Baird smiled broadly as he let his hand drift back to his side.

"What? How could you do that without knowing how the damned Hobgoblin is supposed to be?" McCoy ran a tricorder over Spock, and then grunted in surprise when it beeped, "I'll be damned… You're telling the truth. He's in as perfect health as he's ever been,"

Duke Baird extended his hand to McCoy, "Want a check up? I promise, one free per customer. And I assure you, Mister Kirk in there will be needing it by the time Alanna is through with him,"

One by one, Baird went through the crew and healed the traces left by hard travel, a hard transport, and any lingering feelings. It was miraculous how quickly and seemingly effortlessly the man did it.

"I, I've never felt this good!" exclaimed Sulu, grinning as he flexed his arms.

Neal laughed and gestured at his father, "I'd say you'd better. My father is the best Healer in the Realm,"

"Our Lioness is quite good as well, young man, or do you neglect to give your teacher her due?" Baird jerked his head over to where Alanna was finishing a complicated Shang kick. Kirk went flying with a high-pitched squall to land in an ungainly heap on the far side of the court yard. Spock didn't join the crew and Tortallans in laughing at his Captain, but he did allow a bit of amusement to flow down his connections to both Jim and Leonard. Kirk responded with a rude gesture and accepted Alanna's hand up.

The two sat down on a bench close to where Kirk fell and waved at the rest.

"We'll be over in a minute! Gotta catch my breath!" Alanna called, laughing.

Spock turned back to the group and listened to Doctor McCoy, Duke Baird, and Sit Nealan as they discussed medicine.

Sulu, Chekov and Uhura were talking with the just returned Keladry, and Spock felt himself finally relax. These people were kind, and they appeared to have no ulterior motives at all in their interactions with the Crew. He supposed that just once, the Enterprise Crew had not landed in a hopeless and dangerous situation.

A small, but legitimate smile graced his lips quickly before he smoothed his features. He just might enjoy writing the debriefing report for this incident.


	8. Emotional Engineering

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So, how many of you believe in poltergeists? Well, I have one that follows me around and destroys all the electronics that I own. Its most recent victim was my laptop. Fine one night, and the next day it was doing a FABULOUS imitation of a fire alarm. The next three chapters of this story were in fact written and just awaiting a more thorough proof-read than I usually give my chapters. Needless to say, they've poofed. So, I ask for yet more patience with this already patience taxing story and implore you to stick with me.
> 
> This chapter: Back to Scotty and Numair, who have a little bonding session over magical sciencey engineering stuffs.
> 
> POV: Numair

Numair sat back, watching with a growing feeling of respect for the man as Scotty poured over a thick text of magical Laws. It covered the basic limitations of the Gift, the ways it can manifest itself in a person, and the interaction of the Gift with the rarer power of The Sight. It also had chapters written by Numair himself in it describing Wild Magic. Periodically the man would utter small phrases of delight and understanding, ranging from 'aha's' to the slightly confusing 'by the Enterprise's nacelles'. It was gratifying that his work was being received so enthusiastically, Numair thought to himself.

It was also a testament to the boisterous Engineer's nature that he was so immediately accepting of this world. It was quite obvious to Numair that the Realm Montgomery Scott and his crewmates came from was vastly different than this one. It was in the way this man jerked in surprise to small things like the clang of steel swords echoing up from the courtyard, or the small spells Numair cast without a thought. Even then, Scotty was more eager to learn than afraid. He swallowed Numair's explanations an eagerly looked for more. When Numair produced a tiny Simulacra, he was entirely sure that Scotty's eyes would burst from his head.

"Nay, I cannae believe it. How? It isn't a hologram," exclaimed the excitable Scott, poking the miniature Numair with curiously still fingers compared to how his body was vibrating with energy.

"Hologram?" Numair chuckled and watched as his tiny counterpart voiced displeasure with being picked up and manhandled.

"It's a, a, image that looks three dimensional. But its nay solid like this," Scotty looked up at Numair, eyes bright and gleaming, "This is as good as a real body, ain't it?"

"Yes. Though for all intents and purposes, it isn't actually there. It's a complex mix of my own Gift and magics that deal with sight, sound… the senses. It is a doll, a puppet. A shadow made solid,"

"It's fantastic. Tha's wha' it is," Scotty gripped Numair's shoulder, grinning widely.

An odd bubble of emotion filled Numair's chest as Scotty's grip tightened. He was unused to such an eager response to his breadth of arcane knowledge. His wife, his friends, his King even, usually just flapped a hand at him and carried on when he launched into an explanation. This was the first time since leaving the University, since leaving Lindhall's company and that of his students', that someone genuinely wanted to listen to him. His assignment teaching the pages was enjoyable, but none of the pages had the raw talent necessary to grasp the greater magics. The Words of Power. The spells that needed blood and time and immaculate energy. So Numair never got to discuss them.

But here was a man, from another world, hanging on every word that fell from his wagging tongue. Numair would be lying to imply that he wasn't preening-just a bit.

Numair coughed and extracted himself from the space traveler's grip slowly, oddly sad to feel the blunt fingers let go, "So tell me about your world, your technology,"

Scotty canted forward even more and rubbed his hands together, "We're from the 23rd Century of our," a wave of the hands, "Realm. We've progressed far past the time period you all are in. This, this all looks like our past. Savin', o'course, the Magic and the fantasy and the Ogres an' such. We're the Crew of the USS Enterprise, call number NCC-1701. She's tha best, and most beautiful starship there is in the entire Fleet. She's all sweet lines, beautiful construction. She can run anything ragged before the dilithium crystals even begin to get warm,"

Numair blinked.

Scotty blushed.

"I… I am unaccustomed to understanding so little of what someone tells me," Numair remarked dryly.

"Aye… Sorry 'bout that. D'ye have paper an' something to write with? Ah can try to make it clearer," Scotty snagged sheaf of parchment and accepted the quill Numair handed him. As Numair hunched closer to Scotty he noticed the flush spreading over the other man's face as he talked. Sure fingers sketched the lines of a most insane looking craft. Scotty labeled the engines, labeled the living areas. The sheer size of the thing boggled Numair's mind. Could something so large really fly on its own?

"It's gigantic…" he breathed, running a finger over the inked lines, "How does it work? You mentioned crystals in the engines?"

"Aye. We use dilithium crystals in the propulsion engines," Scotty launched into an explanation that Numair could barely follow and as he soaked in the new and wild information, Numair felt his entire being drawn in. He couldn't wait to pick the man's brain for everything he knew.

Outside the window a sudden shout drew both men's attention.

"Captain?" Scotty jumped to his feet and rushed to the window, leaning over the edge, his worried face broke into a beaming smile. Soon he was guffawing, collapsed on the sill. Numair leaned over him, hand resting on his back to see what commotion was happening outside. There, in a practice courtyard, stood gathered the Enterprise crew accompanied by Raoul, Keladry, Duke Baird, and Neal. What Scotty was laughing at, however, Numair was sure was the fact that Lady Alanna had evidently just tossed Captain Kirk the length of the practice course. The golden haired captain lay sprawled and wheezing in the dirt as his audience laughed.

"Och, Looks like the Captain has meet 'is match!" Scotty crowed. Numair watch as Alanna hauled the bruised man to his feet and smiled.

"I would have been very surprised if she lost a match,"

"So what's tha deal with 'er anyway? Where we come from, women were nay often knights. At least not real ones,"

"Lady Alanna was the first female knight in living history. She hid her sex, switched places with her twin brother so he could become a sorcerer and she a knight, all because she didn't want to be a waste. She knew she could do it, and she wanted to do great things. And she has. She has done more for this Realm than almost any other person; and in some cases more than King Jonathan. She was a Tool of the Goddess. Destined for greatness. Keladry, on the other hand, was the first legal female page. She overcame the resentment of the conservatives-those that felt and still feel women shouldn't bear weapons, to become the finest Knight in her generation,"

"Ye all talk about your gods like they… exist," Scotty hedged.

Numair looked at him, eyes wide, "Because they do? The Realm of the Gods is adjoined to ours, across a barrier of energy. Do you not have Gods where you come from?"

Scotty looked uncomfortable for a moment, then took a deep breath, "Where we're from, there are as many gods as there are cultures. An' no-one will ever know if they truly are real. We've been to worlds where someone else had got there first an' set themselves up as a god, and more oft than not they were a vengeful god. How can ye all know for sure that these gods are… not like us?"

Numair was silent a moment, thinking about the type of lure it would be, to have an entire world think him a god because of a power he had that they did not.

"Well," he began, "because I've met them. I've seen their Realm. I've studied their histories and seen their power. My wife is the daughter of a minor God and a human. She is on speaking terms with the first Badger, and many other animal Gods. I've seen the Realm of the Black God-Death," he clarified, "I know they are real Gods because they have a real and permanent effect in this world. But they also are bound by their own rules. They are bound to not meddle in the affairs of mortals beyond their use of a Vessel. Someone told me that when they asked the Gods why they didn't just stop the war, or just stop the bad things from happening… They replied with 'Then where is Man's right to choose?'. They do not use us for anything. They merely watch over and try to preserve the balance,"

Then Numair's eyes took a grim cast, "I also know because I fought in their War,"

"The Gods waged a war?" Scotty was still frowning, though he now looked fairly amazed.

"Former Emperor Ozorne… he caused the veil between the mortal and divine realms to dissolve, releasing the Immortals that had been imprisoned there, all at the behest of the Queen of Chaos, sister to the Great Gods. She wanted to topple the world, topple our nations, enslave all living things; mortal, immortal, divine. And he was helping her. We stopped it,"

Scotty reached out to grip Numair's shoulder. About to thank the man, Numair paused. There was a look in his eyes. This man understood the loss that comes with a war no one thought could be won. This man understood the meaning behind not having said 'we won', but rather 'we stopped it'. Lives had been lost; precious lives. This man had also made decisions and seen good people die.

Numair swallowed the unexpected lump of emotion in his throat and blinked away a rare tear,

"Shall we go rejoin your friends?"


End file.
